


Everything I failed to be

by em_dibujsb, sianii



Series: Time is a very malleable thing. [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2012!Steve Rogers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Character Study, Fix-It, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know how to tag this fic without spoiling it so all ur getting is hot takes, M/M, Nat was Steve's family fuck you Marvel, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers will never leave Bucky Barnes behind fight me, Steve is depressed and on a journey to recovery, Time Travel, endgame is literally aou vol 2, first thing i fixed was the shield bc fuck them it makes no sense that old steve has one, i am doing them a service here, i am literally going to fix all the timelines they just created, it dont matter what they say they broke it and it makes no sense, multiple steve rogers, old!steve never happens, the stones are just along for the ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_dibujsb/pseuds/em_dibujsb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sianii/pseuds/sianii
Summary: “My past is everything I failed to be.”― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of DisquietWith the Snapture reversed and Thanos defeated, the only thing left to do is to return the stones to their righftul places in time and space. But removing them has already had consequences, sprouting new timelines despite their best efforts. Captain America has always tried to right the course of history and save those closest to him. With the power of time travel at his finger tips, he is suddenly faced with the possibility to save those he's failed the most.(Now with art by @em_dibujsb for ch. 9)





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wrote 26k fix it fic in 2 1/2 days because I am salty as fuck. We all know they did us dirty. We all know their idea of time travel (and so many other things) made no sense. Nat was the last person they should have killed off in this film and Steve would never leave Bucky to live with a 15 years younger Peggy Carter in the 1940s. He'd also never go back to the past and leave Bucky to Hydra. I am happy to tell you he does none of these things in this fic. In my humble opinion this is what happens after Tony's funeral. Canon-divergent from the moment Steve walks towards that platform.  
> The fic is finished and will regulary be updated. I actually have someone beta-ing but they actually have a life and I'm just crying on twitter, so I will update once a week at least and exchange chapters once she's beta'ed them.  
> Thank you for your attention.

“I really think you should take that thing with you,” Sam told him, still gaping at the shield he had handed him, the title of Captain America along with it. “Shuri literally just gave that to you this morning and you might need it.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and right now this world needs Captain America.” Sam looked up at that, his eyes searching. “For us you’ll only be gone seconds, no matter how long you take. Time travel, man.” Steve smiled. Yeah, he still couldn’t really believe it either. “I know I am simply to put the stones back, but anything could go wrong. Just hold it for me, alright? You can hand it back to me, if I come back.”

He could see that Sam wanted to offer again, that he shouldn’t go alone then, that they should do teams and so many other solutions, but Steve shook his head again. They had won, but they had lost so much too. He was not going to risk any of the lives they had just gotten back. People needed to heal. He was beyond healing; of that he was sure.

Behind Sam Buck stood still as the trees surrounding them. He could feel his eyes heavy on him. They had barely talked since he’d come back. Steve wasn’t sure, if Bucky was being distant or if he’d just picked up on Steve’s need to be by himself. There had been moments where he had wanted Bucky to come at him, yell at him, demand what was wrong with him. He never had. And Steve was glad for it. He didn’t have an answer.

All he had was this insurmountable feeling of grief and dread that enveloped him every time he looked at Bucky. It didn’t make sense. He was back. Finally. And still…

“Alright Steve, hop on the platform,” Bruce was saying now, and Sam stepped back after saying his good bye. Bucky came up to him. More silence and a look so guarded, it was lightyears away from the Bucky Steve had known once upon a time. “Don’t do anything stupid,” Steve told him, at a loss for something better to say. There was a glint of remembrance in Bucky’s eyes before he answered, “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky’s smile was a little more genuine even if not less sad, when he moved in for a hug. “I’m gonna miss ya, buddy,” he said when they moved apart. Hugging Bucky had never been this uncomfortable. With a last nod, he took Thor’s hammer and stepped onto the platform.

 

When making the plan, he thought it would make the most sense to go to Asgard in 2013 first, if only to get rid of the clunky hammer, but now that he was moving through time, something drew him to New York first. They’d already messed with that timeline well and good, letting Loki escape with a literal Tesseract, and he felt a responsibility to do damage control for the people of this timeline.

When he materialised on the rooftop that Bruce had left mere seconds ago, the Ancient One was waiting for him, smiling mildly, as the visor of his screen went up.

“Captain Rogers, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am sad we never will get the chance otherwise in my life,” she did not hold out her hand and Steve nodded, too aware of the knowledge she was implying about her own demise. “It’s a pleasure, Ma’am.”

Without further ado, she opened the Eye of Agamoto, revealing the place where the time stone was supposed to be. As Steve got the stone out of his parcel, it naturally flowed through the air and to its rightful place. Before Steve could say anything, the Ancient one spoke up, “I am gathering from your appearance here, that you managed to right the world you were tasked to protect.” It sounded like faint praise; bile rose in Steve’s throat. “Thanos is dead and the lives that were taken by him were restored.” She nodded. “I am glad to hear that, even gladder to have the stone back. I could already feel the universe unravelling around me. It would not have been instantaneous, but with any of the stones missing at any given moment, the fabric of the universe cannot hold itself together and it dissolves, and everything in it with it.”

Steve just gaped at her. “I thought this was just to prevent an alternate timeline from happening?” Her smile got broader. “Yes, I might not have wanted to worry your friend. I trust in Stephen Strange in any universe and he is needed in any as well. Your mere presence in this time has already made it diverge from the timeline you knew, in big and in small ways.” He thought about Loki, about telling himself that Bucky was alive. He considered what he would have done back in 2012, if he had been forced to fight himself and find out that Bucky had survived somehow. He would have told the Avengers and Shield, he would not have gone to DC to lead a strike team, he would have tried to find him. And would have made Hydra aware of his knowledge and at the same time remove himself from a position, where he could have stopped Project Insight. He swallowed heavily, suddenly worried to no end about this universe’s Bucky and the state of the world in general.

Picking up on the stone-cold anxiety he was suddenly experiencing, the Ancient One tried to reassure him, “Do not worry, dear Captain, time is a very malleable thing. It rarely happens the same way twice and there are universes as infinite as any universe is infinite in itself.” The thoughts that had been running away with Steve stopped short. “So, it’s not a big deal?” She shook her head. “No, but I still would ask you to try to put the stones back as close to the time you took them from, as possible, in order to keep the integrity of the universe intact. Anything else will go as it goes and unfold as it does. Neither of us has any control over how.”

An exhilarating thought popped into his head: he could find himself again, explain and warn him and then trust himself and his friends that they would act well. Anything to save Bucky and stop Hydra. With Loki he couldn’t help them. He could only trust that Loki was not going to return to Thanos. Thor had often mourned his brother and his brother’s life. Finding out how Thanos treated and conditioned his “children” had given Thor a whole slew of new nightmares about what Loki might have gone through between the battle of New York and his apparent death on Asgard.

“But, Thanos destroyed the stones. He told us. Five years ago, and the universe was fine aside…” he broke off, unwilling to recount what a world where half of its living things was missing felt like. The Ancient One shook her head decidedly. “You cannot destroy an Infinity Stone, not even with another Infinity Stone. They are infinite in themselves, tied to the universe. You cannot destroy time itself and so you cannot destroy the stone that is tied to it, just as you cannot destroy space or power or reality.”

“But Thanos said, he’d destroyed them,” they shouldn’t have believed him, they should have searched harder. Nat and Tony. He could have saved them, too. “The impossibility of such a feat is an inescapable fact. I can only presume that he sent them away. Maybe he didn’t even know where to, though that is unlikely. From what you’re telling me, I doubt he’d ever given up the information and the universe is vast. You might not have ever found them and time was of the essence.” He nodded, Doctor Strange had told them that this had been the only way they could have won. Maybe they had searched in one of the other futures and all died before ever finding a single stone.

“ _Time_ is malleable, Captain, but the past is not. The only thing you can ever change is the future from any particular point onwards. You will do well to remember this, I feel.” And with that she opened a portal right under his feet, dropping him straight into Avengers tower, or well Stark tower at this point in time. He had landed on the same floor that he had fought himself on and he could see that the fight had just ended. His younger self was knocked out cold in the middle of the walkway but his self from a couple of days ago was already gone. No one had come to get him yet. Perfect timing. Quickly he went to his younger self, hoisted himself up over his shoulder and made a beeline for an adjacent room, locking the door behind them. He took the earpiece from younger Steve and heard Nat and Tony of all people asking what was going on. “I lost Loki, guys, he really is gone,” he said in a way of hello and pressed his teeth together as the voices of his lost friends flooded his ear. “So much for Shawarma,” Tony was cursing, while Nat asked him if he was okay. Steve looked at his still knocked out self. “I’ll need a moment, but you should go ahead and update Fury and Hill. At least he did not get the sceptre,” and then going with the punches, “Though it’s not exactly a sceptre anymore.” Confusion on the other sides, Thor chiming in now. Thinking about just dropping the mind stone here, no sceptre attached, he wondered how they had ever believed that getting the stones from different times was ever not going to change the future. Well, they had been preoccupied with more important things he supposed. “I’ll explain when I get up there.” Younger Steve was stirring now, letting out a loud groan and quickly Steve turned off the com.

“Welcome back,” Steve said loudly, getting younger Steve’s attention. He looked as shocked as he had, when Steve had first told him about Bucky and then dropped Peggy’s photo. He didn’t attack Steve again, so Steve hoped they’d moved past that. “You’re not Loki then,” his younger self stated, and Steve shook his head. “Then, how?” Steve chuckled. “Remember when you where frozen for seventy years and suddenly you kinda time travelled into the future, kid?” His younger self grimaced. “This is kinda like that, only that time is way less linear and I came the other way.” Steve’s eyes got bigger, a question forming on his lips but then he shut his mouth. Steve gave him time to process. “That’s not... that’s not like regular technology, though, or is it?” Steve had to laugh. He remembered a time right after being defrosted when everything and then kind of nothing had seemed impossible to him. He’d always been unsure, whether people were bullshitting him or were genuinely trying to explain something to him, that had been far beyond what even Howard Stark could have imagined when they’d been young men together. “Naw, that’s new. Even for me. We had trouble, trouble that might come knocking down your door sometime in the future too. I cannot tell. We’ve already messed up how it went for us quite a bit.” He grimaced. “But the Infinity Stones, the Tesseract and the Sceptre, we needed them, but your universe needs them too.” He got the mind stone from his pouch and held it out to Steve who took it cautiously. “This is the mind stone; it was in the sceptre. You would do well to keep it save.” It only now occurred to Steve that Vision, an accident born out of so many circumstances, might never be brought into existence in this universe. He really could never save everyone.

Steve had taken in the information with concentrated silence. Now that Steve had paused, he interrupted quickly. “You said Bucky was, _alive_?” His voice broke on the last work. He knew exactly how he felt. Had felt it too. Steve gave a curt nod.

“It’s not pretty and it’s not nice. It’s also very complicated but now you already know, even though I didn’t find out till 2014. I’ve changed the timeline already and I couldn’t bear the thought of you knowing endangering him further. You might wanna stay seated for that.” He added, as younger Steve looked as if he was about to shake out of his own skin.

And so, Steve told him about how Hydra had survived and how Bucky had survived and how these two were deeply interconnected. He told Steve that he could trust the Avengers and Fury, but should not trust Shield as an organisation and especially not Alexander Pierce, he told him about the bunker in New Jersey and the place they had kept the Winter Solider at in 2014 in D.C.

His younger self listened all the while, horror in his eyes but determination in the set of his jaw. “I am not going to let him down. I should have gone and searched for him when he…, when he fell.” Steve laughed and his younger self looked ready to punch him again. “I am sorry, kid. I am not laughing at you, it’s just… Natasha. I said the exact same thing to her when I found out and she told me not to blame myself. I don’t think I’ve ever really taken that lesson to heart. Then again, I don’t think she did either. I trust you’ll figure this out. There are few people you can trust as much as Natasha. And if you ever need help when you’re in DC: find a man called Sam Wilson. He will always help you; I promise.”

With that he was ready to go. He would have loved little more than to go with himself and save Bucky, see if two years made a difference, see if with a head’s up, they could dismantle Hydra better and quicker, maybe saving countless lives of good hard-working agents and maybe even the legacy Peggy had built with the organisation.

“Why don’t you come with me? Explain it to the others yourself? They might not believe me.” Steve considered it. Considered seeing Tony and Nat, people who were just becoming friends to him after this day and couldn’t bear it. “You have knowledge you shouldn’t have, about the Winter Solider, about the stones. Fury is cautious by nature; he will want to investigate, and he will find it. He’s also smart enough not to act prematurely. And Thor will trust you on the stones. To him they are legends, kids’ stories from his world that you shouldn’t know about. They are going to become very real and he will trust in what you’ve been told. Also, I am pretty sure there is security footage of at least three Steve Rogers in this building in the last hour.” Steve stood and helped his younger self up. “Also tell Thor that if any enemy ever gets all the stones together, he should aim for the head.”


	2. II

There was nothing left for Steve but hoping that his younger self and the newly founded Avengers would do better this time around. That they'd forge a better future, equipped with the kind of hindsight usually only the experience of events grants you. He had to trust in them. For some reason that seemed harder than it had ever been, with the stakes so high and the possibility of something better so fragile.

            He stepped back through time and space and right into Asgard. He had never been before, its tragic demise occurring shortly before the Battle of Wakanda and was floored by its colour, its light, its architecture. Thor really should have taken them at some point. Tony would have loved it, he was sure. He allowed the grief to overtake him again for a moment, thinking about all the things they never experienced as friends, as family, before he made his way to Jane’s room. Once more he wondered how they would have been supposed to keep the timeline intact. They had compressed the Aether into a stone. How was it supposed to go back into Jane? Should she swallow it? It also had been killing her, so why would she even consider doing this, now that she was cured?

            With that knowledge he decided to simply walk up to her chambers and knock. Moments later Jane opened the door, she smiled, presumably expecting Thor and first confused and then vary when she saw him. “Captain Rogers, what brings you to this realm?” She was a smart woman but not a great actress and he cursed internally. “I am not Loki,” he sighed heavily. “Of course, you’re not,” she said. She didn’t believe him one bit. It was then that he heard another woman calling his name.

            “Steven Grant Rogers,” he turned and saw an older woman, with golden hair, bright eyes and an even brighter smile approach him. She reminded him instantly of Thor, as much as her energy and warmth brought back memories of his own mother. “It is good to meet you, your majesty,” Steve said, unsure how formal to be with the queen of Asgard.

            “Frigga is fine,” her grin turned mischievous, “As I’ve just bid my own son good bye, I presume you’re here to return whatever he took.” Thor hadn’t mentioned talking to his mother, then again, none of them had elaborated much on how they had gotten the stones, aside from the information he needed to return them. Steve simply took the red reality stone out and handed it over to her. “I guess it had the side effect of curing Jane from her possession,” he shrugged, looking at Jane who was gaping at them both. When their eyes met, she composed herself quickly. “What is going on here? How are you here, Captain? And how did you cure me?”

            “These details are not for us to know, dear child,” Frigga was telling her know, “No one is supposed to know their own future.” Steve grimaced at that, thinking back to the conversations he had just had. “With all due respect, Ma’am, we couldn’t help but to change your future, in order to save our own. The Aether is no longer part of Jane and therefore, the events to come are changed inevitably.”

            Frigga searched his face but apparently had to acquiesce to his reasoning. “I suppose, but that doesn’t mean you should give us more knowledge than we already possess.” He nodded but couldn’t help to add, “I agree, but at least you can hide the reality stone somewhere safer than within another person or at the Collector’s place, ya know?” Frigga looked like she’d just bitten into something sour, but Jane reassured him that they would and that they’d tell Thor. Judging from the look he got from Frigga, he couldn’t be sure they would, but it was in their hands now and he knew when he had overstayed his welcome.

            He put Thor’s hammer down and with a nod and a salute left the two women to get ready for the attack of the Dark Elves. He could only hope things would go better this time.

 

With three stones to go, Steve wondered where to go next. When getting them, they had taken them basically at this time. He might then as well take back the Power Stone, so that Quill could find it. It only occurred to him now, that the Thor he had just left behind, would never have to face Thanos. Neither would he nor Nat or Tony. Bucky and Sam would never be dissolved, and Vision would not be mauled. Thanks to them in this universe they were save.

            He had no problem taking back the power stone. None of the other Avengers where here, and Thanos had apparently already left this universe for theirs, where he would be defeated for good, saving their friends and everyone in this universe. He hadn’t considered that till now.

            Behind him the door to the temple closed, where now a gem and not an orb was held in stasis. On the way out he saw Quill. He hadn’t gotten to know the guy much, but from what he had gathered he had lost someone close in a similar way he had, sacrificed by Thanos to get the soul stone. It had been even less of a choice than for Natasha.

            He also knew that the Gamora from this timeline had come with Thanos, had not dissipated like the others of his cronies. She had fought against them and then made a run for it. The Guardians of his time were searching for her. This Peter Quill would never meet her. He wondered what that would mean for him, what kind of life he would live. He couldn’t help him aside from that. Maybe Quill would still find the others, or any family for that matter.

 

The next logical choice was going to Vormir. From what Clint had told him it was a freaky place, now only less inviting for the thought of finding Natasha’s dead body right where he was supposed to place the soul stone. Then again, time travel allowed him the cowardice to not have to face this right away.

            A second later he was back at the Shield base and faced with a conundrum. Someone had alerted the base to their presence. It would not be as easy to sneak back in to place the space stone where the Tesseract had been and besides, he was again exchanging an artefact for a stone. Someone would notice. The timeline was changed already. If this universe was very unlucky, Hydra would find out how to use the stone. He needed to give it to someone he trusted and explain. Howard had left the base. Pym didn’t know him. Peggy did.

            He had been so close to her when he’d last been here. A part of him had hoped that she would discover him, that he’d get to talk to her and then… He didn’t know what then, but the thought of her had crossed his mind a lot in the last year. Loss had been a constant in his life, and he had dreamt himself back to a time where the biggest suffering he had known had been World War II. He had caught himself more than once dreaming of actually having died in 1945, of the darkness that had welcomed him on impact. Other times he had dreamt of being found when Howard had found the Tesseract, of being reunited with a Peggy who was still young and had not moved on yet. Of a version of himself who could have a life with her.

            It wasn’t him. Hadn’t been him in a long while and still. He had missed her so much and the fantasy had been able to distract him from the other losses, with whose memories he was caught in a twilight zone. Now they were back but they were all a little more broken. They’d been broken before, in different ways, by different things but now a rift of five years lay between them and he was so scared that they couldn’t mend that divide. So, he thought of Peggy and dreamt about being whole with her.

             Apparently, Peggy hadn’t been disrupted by the commotion of the intruders. She was sitting at her desk, playing with a pen and reading a couple of documents. She was older and she was younger. A Peggy he knew only from videos at the Smithsonian. He’d been a couple years her senior when they met, so now she was in her early fifties, older than him. Always beautiful. There was no one else. Taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage he could he opened the door and stepped inside.

            “Not now, Jezebel, I am trying to concentrate.” Just hearing that crisp British accent had him nearly swallowing his tongue with emotion. “Not Jezebel,” was all he could get out. At the sound of his voice she turned around quickly, her pen clattered to the floor.

            “Steve,” her voice was full of disbelief. They both stood frozen just a few feet apart in the crammed office. They looked at each other for what felt like an eternity. He could tell she also noticed that he was not the man that she had kissed good bye on that car and then heard crashing shortly after. He wondered for a stupid second, if he’d be assumed to be Loki for a third time but then remembered that that was an assumption Peggy couldn’t make. It still made him huff a laughter, breaking the spell that had kept them where they were.

            Peggy smiled back and held up a finger, motioning him to be quiet. She went to the other door leading to her office and opened it, hiding Steve from sight.

            “Jezebell, love, would you be so kind to get the Crooke file for me?” He couldn’t make out the answer in full, but a second later Peggy was back and locked the door. “That should keep her busy for a good half an hour.” She smiled at him and took a step towards him. “Enough time to explain to me, what is going on. Am I having a very elaborate chemically induced hallucination? Am I dead? Or is it something scientific. Maybe the different dimension thing is even weirder than I previously understood.” She smiled cautiously at him and he had never been more grateful to have known her.

            “Yeah, I guess different dimensions is one way to look at it but Pegs, I will not pretend to understand in the slightest how exactly this worked. I am from the future.” This she apparently had not expected. “Does the serum keep you so well in shape? How unfair indeed. I am glad that you survived the crash in another life though. I hope that Peggy got to have her dance.” There was a sadness in her smile, but one that had morphed from grief to nostalgia long ago. The implication of her words hit him hard. “I am afraid that’s not exactly how it went down. God, I don’t even know where to begin.” The curiosity in her eyes was devouring but she didn’t prod and let him go at his own pace.

            And there it was again, the possibility for change. A chance to help those who suffered and maybe save people he would otherwise lose.

            “I didn’t die in 1945, but I also did not make it back to shore. I was frozen in permafrost. The serum kept me alive, like I was in cryo and then I was found by accident. In 2012.” Peggy made a sound at that, apparently more shocked by the story than by his reappearance. He continued, “I’ve lived in the 21st century for the past 11 years. I travelled back through time to save half the universe in the year 2023. I had to lend the Tesseract from you guys, sorry for the commotion by the way, and I’ve come to return what was inside it in order to prevent your universe from collapsing because of its absence.”

            Something he had never achieved when they had been young together in the 1940s, nor when he had visited her in her home in the 21st century, was render Peggy Carter speechless. She had been tight lipped, or quiet, but it had usually been because she didn’t want to talk to him, not because she did not know what to say.

            When she spoke again, her voice was subdued and full of a new kind of grief. She stepped closer to him and drew him in, hugging him close. She smelled different. She felt different, too. But the voice murmuring “I am so sorry,” into his neck was seared into his memory. He felt tears welling up again and only the precariousness of their situation had him keeping it together.

            “We went looking for you, you know,” she told him, her voice also on the brink of tears, “Howard searched for you. We found the Tesseract but neither the plane nor your… body.” She was still holding on to him and he indulged himself, brushing back a lock of hair that had escaped the perfect style she was sporting. “I know you did, Pegs. You couldn’t have known. It’s okay. The future, not too bad. Mostly. The last few years were just… difficult.” She was looking at him closely, trying to decipher if he was lying or not. “We met again, in the future. You tell me everything about your family. About the good life you’ve lived. I am so glad you got to move on, Pegs.” Like the hawk that she always wass, Pegs seized on these words. “And you didn’t?” A tired smile was all he could give her. She was still trying to decipher the meaning of his words. “Oh gosh, that means you are currently in the ice! We could get you out! Or does it have to happen in 2012?”, she added cautiously, trying to contain the excitement and hope she seemed to feel. “I mean I know you’d still have lost 30 years, but your friends are still alive. Howard works here. Maria is expecting her baby boy any day know. You’d get to be an uncle to my kids and…” A new kind of longing filled him. He knew that he would always choose to have her in her life, if the possibility arose. It’s what had brought him back to her home week after week, no matter how painful. 2012 Steve was searching for Bucky and hopefully destroying Hydra. 1970s Peggy could probably do both better and get him out of the ice along the way. He also knew that Howard and Pym weren’t Hydra. These were probably all the allies she would need to succeed.

            “There’s more. I will tell you something I did not find out till 2014, but if you decide to defrost me now, I must ask you to do these other things too, okay?” “Anything,” was her prompt answer.

            And so, he told her the story, as he told it to his self in 2012. He told her about Bucky and about Hydra and gave her all the information he could think of from the files that he’d had. When he was done, Peggy looked white as a sheet. “Hydra,” she finally gasped out, “My whole life… I thought I’d been making the world a better place, but I’ve been working for Hydra, with Hydra!” One of the few mercies of dementia had been that his Peggy never fully understood what had happened to SHIELD before she died. “I am so sorry, Pegs.” She didn’t really hear him. “How didn’t I see it? How could I have missed this? How many of my closest confidants are Hydra?” Steve knew what it felt like to be betrayed like that. With the way Hydra worked, Steve was sure, there was more than one person close to Peggy, who was working against her. “You can trust Howard and Pym but Peggy, we managed to take them down and smoke them out. I know you can, too and please when you do, save Bucky.”

            “He’s killed President Kennedy!” She said loudly and Steve couldn’t help but cover her mouth with his hand. She glared at him furiously and he quickly took a step back, giving her space. “He’s killed many more and he will kill many more, but he doesn’t know. They gave him a version of the serum. From what I’ve gathered since finding him, he regenerates as I do, means the parts of his brain that they damage in order to brainwash him fix themselves after a while. God, Peggy, you shoulda’ve seen that chair. Straight from hell. Please don’t leave him. He just needs time and quiet and help to break his conditioning. It will be easier once I’m here. I can get through to him. I’ve done it before after a longer time in their clutches. Hydra is not just inside Shield. They are also inside the KGB. They are using him together.”

            Peggy was looking at him, calculating. “What do you propose?” He sighed in relieve. “Talk to Howard. I know you two are the smartest most competent people I know. I’ll give you the coordinates and you need to get me back without Hydra noticing. With your skills and Howard’s money, I know you can do it. You can trust Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne too. The rest might be harder to find out. Zola never stopped working for them and is going to build a supercomputer to keep his consciousness alive. Alexander Pierce is Hydra. I am not sure when he joined but he will be before he even joins Shield. But I know you can do it. Not being noticed was their saving grace. Not everyone here is Hydra and everyone who is really Shield joined for the right reasons. For the reasons you gave them. Once you’ve got me and they’ve lost the Winter Solider, I know you’ll be able to dismantle them completely. You’ve built this organisation. I know you can save it.”

            Peggy looked at him, determined now. He knew that look. Nothing could stand in the way of that look for long and not wither away. “I won’t let you down, Steve. And I will also save Sergant Barnes and anyone I can along the way.”

            A thought struck him and with a short consideration to how much he had already changed this timeline he thought ‘ _fuck it’_. Natasha wouldn’t be born for another decade but it was always good to have someone powerful looking out for you. “Have you ever heard about the Red Room?”

 

In the end it was Jezebel’s return that made Steve leave. She knocked forty-five minutes after she had left to give Peggy the file, who thanked her before locking her out again. Steve gave Peggy the space stone, directing her to keep it save and far away from Hydra’s hands. She nodded, telling him she’d ask Howard to make a replica of the Tesseract to keep Hydra unaware of its disappearance. They hugged again, close and long. Peggy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You have changed a lot since I lost you Steve, but I am glad to know that your heart is still in the same place. I’m glad. It’s the part of you I fell in love with.”

            This time he couldn’t stop the tears that welled up and he had to hug her close again. They’d be alright. This Steve would help Howard and Peggy to save Bucky and dismantle Hydra. This Tony would have a father and this Steve would not be his friend but could be his uncle. He’d help Bucky and they’d settle into this decade together, a little worse for wear, a little broken but not yet at the point of no return. They’d have a life here. A good life. Not the one they were meant to have, but then again maybe they had both meant to die in 1945 and a cruel fate had not let them. The only solace Steve could think off, was that fate was at least letting them find each other, over and over, two men out of time.


	3. III

The only thing left now was the soul stone, Vormir and Natasha. He really hoped in this time Peggy would be able to help the Red Room girls. She might never become his Natasha this way, but he could never be her Steve either. Maybe she would have an actual childhood. A normal life. Or in Natasha’s case an extraordinary one. No one could stop her.

 He still did not feel ready for this though. Maybe he was getting drunk on the power time travel granted him but the changes he had made had put an idea into his head. It was getting harder to ignore. He was stocked up on Pym Particles, no one willing to let an accident or circumstance letting him get stuck in the past. He could make one extra trip. He could go to where his journey had begun and give it a new direction. Literally nothing was stopping him and even if it took him a while, he’d never be gone more than ten seconds at home. He could give himself a life. A life after the war. A life with Peggy. A life with Bucky. A life _for_ Bucky. He could stop Hydra before they ever started co-opting what Peggy would build. And he would start exactly where he had failed the first time, because he had given up. His original sin. He had not even considered the possibility of Bucky surviving. He knew that if he had, he would never have gone into the ice. He didn’t know how, but he would have found a way.

 

From his own calculation and the Hydra files he had made himself read, he knew exactly where he’d find the body. The big question then was, when to get there. If he got there too late, Hydra might already have taken him. So, Steve decided to be proactive and wait it out, going back to 1945 and the region of the crash with a week to get to where he needed to be. He was even more knowledgeable about the time now, than he had ever been and being on the run with Natasha for years had given him new skills for staying covert and undetected, that even the time with the Commandos had not given him.

A day before the crash he decided to make camp in the area. He had camping gear, clothes, weapons and especially medical supplies to give Bucky as much first aid as possible before getting him from Hydra's cronies who were coming for him. He knew Bucky had been basically frozen himself when they’d taken him, after days in the snow. This time Bucky would suffer as little as possible. Even at this point he had already suffered more than enough at the hands of Zola.

When it happened, it was just as gut-wrenching as he remembered. Bucky screamed, his voice piercing and echoing in the mountains and then silence. Immediately Steve ran out of his tent and went looking, he hadn’t been far off and found Bucky’s broken body after ten minutes of searching in the white snow. He was unconscious which was a blessing. Sometimes he had wondered, if they’d taken his arm just because they wanted to “enhance” him, take just a little bit more of himself away. Looking at Bucky know disputed that theory. He had fallen onto the arm, basically crushing it. That he hadn’t broken his neck, was the only saving grace keeping him alive it seemed. But he was alive, and Hydra didn’t have him.

Carefully Steve tried to gauge the damage; what he should mend right here and what later. He decided to first take care of open wounds, making sure Bucky didn’t lose too much blood; then he tried to bandage what was broken before it started healing the wrong way. That had happened to him once and it was the worst. The mangled arm was partially shattered, his hand and lower arm missing, bits of bones sticking out of flesh and there was little Steve could do but trying to arrange it in a way where it didn’t hurt and stopped the loss of blood. He needed to get them out of there as quickly as possible, but he also did not want to alert Hydra to his presence. He had also had the foresight to take a rudimentary stretcher with him, making it possible to drag Bucky behind himself without straining either of their bodies. He tucked Bucky under warm blankets, packed up his tent and left, walking south, hoping to reach a part of unoccupied Italy as quickly as possible.

 He knew that the North of Italy wasn’t going to get liberated till a couple of weeks after Bucky fell. He himself had only made it a couple of days longer.

           

The serum gave him the ability to see better than normal people at night, so Steve made sure that they travelled at night and stayed hidden during the day. Bucky’s body had started healing but he’d been unconscious for a week and Steve was starting to worry. Even with time travel, he didn’t exactly get a do-over with this. In the end it takes two weeks to reach liberated territory and finally Steve was able to breathe again. He avoided the army though; he couldn’t explain his own presence and was still cautious to let Bucky out of his sight before he had recovered. In a little village, with no soldiers whatsoever a two-days walk from Florence, he found a surgeon and the medical supplies that he’d been running out of. In his broken Italian he got across that they were American soldiers, separated from their division and that he’d carried his friend from danger. The surgeon couldn’t do more for Bucky’s arm then Hydra had, removing the mangled rest of his upper arm and finally putting him on an IV bag, providing him with the nutrition and water that Bucky had been deprived off in his unconscious state. Steve had asked the locals to not alert any American soldiers to their presence, telling them that he just wanted to stay with his friend, that they were tired of war. The locals understood and reassured him that no one came through here. Steve could rest.

 It takes another two days for Bucky to regain consciousness. He is severely disoriented and his mouth dry as the desert. His first sounds are just gurgling, his eyes unfocused flitting through the room. Steve is there at his side, grasping his right hand and murmuring reassurances as one of the women from the village, Michela, yells for the doctor. Steve presses a glass of water to Bucky’s lips who takes a few sips before Steve takes it away again, cautious to not overwhelm his stomach. “Steve,” is the first audible word from Bucky and Steve’s heart breaks, imagining Bucky calling out for him, while strapped to a table, Hydra’s scientists cutting into his flesh and then his mind. “Right here, buddy,” is all the says trying to keep his voice calm. Bucky’s gaze focuses on Steve’s face and first there is confusion in the furrow of his brow and then recognition. “I thought you were younger,” and Steve has to laugh out loud and full, making Michela look at him in confusion. “That’s quite right. The important thing is that you’re safe, alright Buck? We’ll worry about the rest later.”

It’s right then that Senior Orlandi comes in and Steve steps back and lets the doctor do his work.

 

Bucky flits in and out of consciousness for another week. It takes him way longer to recover than it ever did Steve, which makes Steve question if they gave him more substances, more serum down the line. It makes him worry about his recovery and he just hopes that what Zola did to him at Azzano was bad enough in the best way possible, enough for Bucky to pull through.The care they can provide here is not ideal and Steve is considering taking Bucky to Florence, consequences be damned.

 It’s been nearly four weeks since the fall when Bucky breaks the fever that had been ravaging his body. Steve has been spending as much time as possible at his side but even he needs to leave and take a bath from time to time. He had not brought a razor with him, so when he looks in the mirror, he looks once more like the fugitive that he had been for such a long time. In a way he is. It also helps with keeping who he is under wraps.

 When he returns from a shower and a trim Bucky is sitting up in bed. He’s awake and lucid but with heavy bags under his eyes, one arm down, looking so very young and fragile, Steve wants to wrap him in blankets and lock him away somewhere where the world cannot get to him. He looks tired and confused and when he sees Steve coming in, he tries to sit up straighter.

 “’Excuse me, sir, can you tell me where I am?” For a moment Steve considers to not tell Bucky who he is, to take on another identity. Just another American solider who was lucky enough to find him and get him out. But he needs Bucky to trust him without questions and he knows Bucky would follow him anywhere, has followed him anywhere, no questions asked.

 “You fell from a train on a mission with the Howling Commandos four weeks ago. I can tell you that the mission was successful. Zola was apprehended and is in SSR custody as of now. The information lead to the defeat of Schmidt and Hydra shortly after your accident. It is assumed that the Allies will declare victory before summer.” Bucky is silent as he takes in the information, taking a closer look at Steve and especially at Steve’s face behind the beard and the fine lines that have started to stay around his eyes and on his forehead. “You are currently in a small village north of Florence in American occupied territory. You are safe here. The fall was very bad. You still need time to recover,” Steve smiles, “You will not see any more of this war, I promise.” Bucky doesn’t smile back.

“Well, I am short a hand for a sniper anyway,” he is still looking at Steve and Steve, mesmerised, steps closer and sits down at his bed. Automatically, he grabs Bucky’s hand, their eyes still caught in each other. “Steve,” Bucky finally whispers. It’s as much a question as it is a realisation. Steve nods. “How?” Is Bucky’s next word and Steve knew that it was coming even though he did not want to hear it, wanting to bask in the knowledge that this Bucky Barnes will never feel Hydra poking in his brain, will never lose himself, will never forget him. “The short answer? Time travel.” Bucky gapes at him, “Like in Wells’ novel?” Steve grinnes, “Yeah, something like that, just with more physics and less bicycle.” Bucky is quiet for a moment then he speaks up, “If you came back through time to save me, does that mean no one did the first time around?” And that’s Bucky Barnes right there for you, always too perceptive. Steve swallows heavily. “We did. Just a little bit too late maybe.” Bucky gives him a long look and then decides that he maybe doesn’t want to know the whole story. Steve breathes a sigh of relief.

 “So where is … my Steve then?” Bucky asks next, “Did you find out in like,” he looks at him again considering how much older the Steve before him might be, “1965 that I hadn’t died from the fall?” Steve cannot help but grin, “I will have you know, I am 38, pal. So, stop it with the blatant disrespect, punk.” That makes Bucky grin too, turning more sombre when he repeats his question about Steve. “Will you take me to him?” Steve nods. “It’s a little bit complicated though. I think we should wait till after VE-Day, the end of the war. At least in Europe. That’s in two months. I think we can just stay right here. You can get your strength back and I’ll make sure, you’re safe and get us transportation back to the States. You are believed dead, Bucky, and I should not be here, so it’s better to keep our heads down. We’ve done enough to end this war. We can let it run its course.” Bucky leans back, visibly relieved. It reminds Steve of how little Bucky ever wanted to go to war, how he hadn’t wanted for Steve to go either. He remembers that Bucky could have gone home after Azzano but hadn’t because Steve didn’t. He had dragged Bucky in every battle he had ever fought in one way or the other. It was time he let him rest. Their pay hadn’t been bad for their service. He knows there will be the GI bill. This Bucky and the Steve who just went into the ice will be able to make a life for themselves. A good life, just like Peggy had.

 He knows that he’ll have to tell Bucky the rest of the story. About the ice and everything that they still have to fight but Bucky is already looking close to sleep again, so he squeezes his hand and tells him to rest. He promises to be there when he wakes up. It’s a promise he can finally keep.


	4. IV

The next two months are some of the happiest Steve can remember. Seeing Bucky alive and getting better every day is a gift. Colour returns to his face and his smiles come easier than he’s ever seen them coming since finding him on that table in Zola’s lab. Tuscany is beautiful in the early spring and they both get to rest. Steve does jobs around the village to keep them clothed and fed, and when VE-Day draws closer, he starts making trips to Florence in order to arrange transport back to the states. He gets them fake names and fake passports. It would be quickest, of course to get an army machine back to the states, but he doesn’t want to risk it and instead decides on taking a ship. It will only take them a week and he has enough money to get them a not too shabby cabin. Bucky will be home in New York before May is out.

They talk a lot even though Steve is cautious not to let slip too much about where he comes from. Instead they talk about their youth and Bucky reminds him of many things he had forgotten or repressed since coming out of the ice. He wonders if his Bucky remembers these things as well. It occurs to him that it’s something he wants to talk to him about.

 In a way the time with young Bucky in Tuscany feels like a holiday, like a vacation. He cannot say for sure though; he hasn’t taken one in his life. They eat the great food that Michela makes them, and Steve learns how to make pizza dough and fresh pasta. Bucky laughs as he throws the pizza at the ceiling and Steve feels light in a way he cannot even remember. Bucky becomes stronger and needs less rest. Most of his bones have healed in the correct way but he limps a little and is off balance due to the loss of his arm. It takes him a while to get used to the changes but by the end of April they take long walks through the village and the surrounding fields. Steve cannot stop touching him, hugging him or tugging him under his arm. Bucky’s youth and quiet happiness are infectious, and Steve feels the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipate, as if someone has taken the weight of the world off his shoulders.

 Still, there are days when Bucky is drawn inward, when there are clouds in his eyes and a pain to his brow. It’s not surprising. Bucky is young and has just gone through the cruellest war in human history; he has killed people, seen suffering and destruction, was tortured and fell to his death. Sometimes Steve leaves him alone. Other times he comes to sit with Bucky and tugs him close. Bucky curls into his side, like Steve did when he was young and sick, and Steve's heart swells with relief and affection.

 VE-Day comes but in their village they don’t hear about it till two days after. Bucky looks elated and relieved. Steve knows that Bucky trusted him when he told him this day would come soon, but he can understand that Bucky couldn’t really believe it until it happened. Their ship is scheduled for mid-May. It’s time to leave paradise.

 

The night before they are set to leave, Steve sits Bucky down; their vacation is over. Steve knows that once they’ve left their little bubble, Bucky will find out about his Steve and the plane crash. He also needs to know about Hydra and about what Steve is going to do.

“When I defeated Schmidt days after I thought I had lost you, Peggy kissed me good bye, I jumped onto a plane full of Hydra operatives and Schmidt by myself and ended up crashing the plane somewhere east of the coast of Canada into the ice. I got frozen. It was a while till they found me and de-frosted me,” he admits to Bucky whose expression is shutting down with every word. “How long is a while?” Steve shrugs, unwilling to come out with the whole truth. “Just as long as finding me was “a little too late”?” Bucky’s gaze is trained on him, searching. “The events lined up pretty much, yeah.” Steve takes his hand. “I am going to make sure they always line up, alright? We’ll get me out of the ice, and you’ll get each other back.” Bucky nods but he looks sad again. “Are you going to leave then?” Steve is taken aback by the question. Of course, he had to leave, even if right then it didn’t feel like he wanted to. The soul stone that he was carrying with himself where ever he went was answer enough though. “Strictly speaking I am on a mission right now. Time travel just gives me the opportunity to go on elaborate detours. Time is really not of the essence right now.” It was a vailed yes and Bucky accepted it as that.

 “How are we going to get you out of the ice? Just tell the SSR where to find you?” Steve had considered that. In the 1970s Hydra was growing well and steady within the organisation. This was before Shield though. This time they might just get it right before it went wrong. “That’s something I wanna discuss with Peggy and Howard when we make contact.” Bucky’s eyebrows lifted a little. “Shoulda expected that you’d wanna see Carter right away.” There was a tone to his voice, it wasn’t exactly disapproval, but he sounded resigned in a way that so far he’d only known from his, not this younger self. Bucky didn’t meet his eyes when he answered. “She’s our contact in the SSR. She’ll know how to best go about this and how to contact Howard.” Bucky didn’t ask anything further.

 The silence stretched between them, as the sky got darker outside, more night than dusk now. Buck’s voice was just a murmur when he spoke up again, head and eyes still tilted downward, while Steve tried to decipher the emotions he saw flickering just under the surface. “I never thought I’d say this after everything, but I’m gonna miss Italy.” He shot Steve a shy, crooked smile and Steve smiled back. He reached out and squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. “Me too, pal. Me, too.”

 

Steve had planned their trip as well and as cautiously as he could under the circumstances, but he was still 75% sure that something would have to go wrong. Something always went wrong. Maybe their ship wouldn’t come. Maybe said ship would come but it would get attacked by straggling Axis forces on the way to the States. Maybe they would make it to shore, but their fake passports would be detected, and they detained.

 None of these things happened. Instead they arrived at Ellis Island, a day late but Steve really was not going to start complaining about that, and were let into the country with a general sense of cheer. The war in the Pacific was ongoing but Hitler was dead, and the Nazis defeated. New York was celebrating.

 Neither he nor Bucky had ever seen New York in such a great mood. It was kind of unsettling but as they made their way into Manhattan they were infected by the lightness that had overcome the city and they couldn’t help but smile at each other intermittently.

 “So where do we find Carter then?” Bucky asked as they walked through the Manhattan streets. “I don’t know,” Steve answered truthfully. Bucky stopped short. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’? I thought we had to find her ASAP to get you out of the ice?” Steve thought that if Bucky hadn’t been holding his bag with the one hand he had left, he would have shoved him. “I know that she’s working for the SSR, but I am not sure if she’s already back in New York City. Also, the SSR office in New York is covert and we are the last people who can just barge in there and ask when Peggy’s back in town.” Bucky looked at him as if to say _‘so?’_. “So, I thought we’d find accommodation first.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at him “That be easy with zero dollars to our name. Not sure how well you can pay with lira in New York.”

 Steve had considered this and had gotten a very mad idea. “We could go back to our place.” Bucky just stared at him. “Rogers, I knew you were dumb, but home ain’t the place to go, when you’re trying not to be found.”

 “Aw, come on Buck, gimme some credit here. It’s been said that I am one of the greatest tacticians of all time.” Bucky moaned. “Apparently, those sad fucks never met ya.” Steve winked at him. “Hear me out, first of all it’s fine for people to know, that you’re back and alive. Might actually wanna drop by your Ma’s and all. And second of all, no one’s gonna believe I’m Captain America. I am too old and too bearded, you didn’t believe your eyes either. You’ll tell everyone I am a vet in need of a place to stay for a bit and everyone’s gonna be too happy about the war being over to ask too many questions.” Bucky considered this for a moment. “If this goes wrong, there will be no one to blame but yourself and I will tell you so.” Steve laughed and tugged an arm over Bucky’s shoulder, steering him towards the next subway stop to go home to Brooklyn.

 

Steve spend the next weeks trying to find Peggy. Bucky stayed in Brooklyn most days, reconnecting with a family who had believed him dead and was mourning Steve’s disappearance. Bucky hated that he had to play the part of the mourning friend when he was with them, just wanting to be home and not think about the war. He had pleaded with Steve to tell them about him and the other Steve in the ice, but Steve was too cautious to endanger any of them and the future he was trying to give them. He had taken Bucky to his Ma’s house one day and watched from the other side of the street how Winifred and Becca had hugged Bucky close; he had ducked into a side street in order to have the crying fit that befell him at the sight. He had brought Bucky home. At last.

 After the first two weeks Steve had to admit that finding Peggy was harder than he had expected. He didn’t precisely know when Peggy was reassigned to New York. He had never read her full file and what his Peggy had told him during bouts of alertness were more anecdotes with vague time frames. All he knew was that she was working in New York City till mid-1947. They had time to find her then. Time wasn’t of the essence.

 One of the things Peggy had told him about was the boarding house for women she lived in in Manhattan. Sadly, he couldn’t recall her ever mentioning it by name, only as ‘ _that dreadful place in Manhattan_ ’ and the friend, Angie, who had lived there, too. It was not exactly much to go off on, while it was very unproper for a man to barge into these places and ask, if a certain lady stayed there or not. Still he had to try, coming up with a story about a British niece who was supposed to arrive in New York, but contact had been lost and now he was worried and searching for her. Every time he told that sob story, as if Peggy Carter ever needed anyone to look out for her, he rolled his eyes internally. Some hotels had turned him away, others simply told him that she sadly didn’t live there. Either way that had been a dead end so far.

Same went for the SSR office. He knew it was hidden within a phone company in Manhattan, but he couldn’t do much more than rotate lurking outside of these buildings hoping to see Peggy go in or out. No luck on that front either, but he wasn’t giving up. He was bound to find her one of these days.

 Maybe he also wasn’t trying too hard. Being back here was quite something. It felt familiar and foreign all the same. Some days it felt like the 21st century had just been an elaborate dream. His friends and family, the experiences he’d had and the things he had seen, truly felt like they were seventy years in the future and not something he had left behind just months ago. But every time he thought that this life was something that happened to someone else, he caught his reflection and was reminded that these memories were written into the lines of his face, while the soul stone in a locket around his neck never let him forget that his mission wasn’t over yet.

And then there was the time and the place itself. Sometimes they were banal things like really wanting Phad Thai, with no Thai place around or humming a song that wouldn’t be written for another 30 years. Sometimes he saw or heard something and felt the need to talk to Sam or Nat, forgetting for a split second that they weren’t around. But there were also more serious things. When Steve had been frozen in 1945, he had had a female CO in Peggy Carter and an insurgent group comprised of white, Black and Asian people of various nationalities. At the time he would have told you something about judging a person by their character and respecting people from all walks of life. And still, he had had to adapt to how society had changed in those seventy years. That hadn’t happened over night, but he had welcomed it and then, he’d gotten used to it.

 On an historic level he’d realised how blatantly sexist, racist and homophobic his New York had been in the 1940s. It was different to live it now and ask yourself how you had ever been able to not see it. He got into more than one fight on behalf of someone else. He tried to not get arrested and had succeeded so far. He was lucky he still had Captain America’s build, even if he gave a different name when asked.

And then there was living with Bucky. They hadn’t shared a living space since Bucky had been deployed in 1943. In the 21st century their timing had never really lined up. The most they had gotten where stolen days in Wakanda, when Steve was touching ground between missions as a fugitive from the law. But there Bucky had spent most of the time in his hut, herding goats, while Steve had a suite in T’Challa’s royal palace. They’d met and talked and spent time, but they hadn’t lived together. Now it was back to close quarters, even closer than back in Italy, where they had had separate rooms, more akin to the week in the cabin on the ship. Steve didn’t mind, enjoyed it even. He needed less sleep than Bucky, so often he woke up early in the morning, in a bed that once had been way too big for him and now felt slightly too small, and looked at Bucky drooling onto his pillow. Bucky was still getting used to life with only one arm and so Steve was happy to help him as much as he could around the apartment. Bucky had not yet told the United States Army that he was, in fact, alive, so Steve had gone back to drawing and selling things to ad agencies and so forth for money. He also realised that drawing portraits of passers by was a great cover when surveilling a place and it brought in extra cash. It worked fine, as long as he could split his attention between the sketch and the place he was observing.

 From the little extra money, he bought them a little radio and Steve and Bucky spent their evenings on their dusty couch, listening to radio plays. Bucky was content with just listening, while Steve drew by candlelight, either work for money or just Bucky, over and over again, as he always had when they were living together, as he had when he’d thought his best friend had died seventy years ago, as he had when he’d found the Winter Solider and went to search for his Bucky. And then Bucky had turned into dust in front of his eyes and Steve had stopped drawing.

 Sometimes he showed the drawings to Bucky, who made snarky comments but smiled brightly when he saw one. Other times he kept them to himself, feeling oddly protective of the Bucky that be brought to paper.


	5. V

It was right after the official end of World War II in mid-September, when Steve stumbled into the automat. He had brought his work to an agency quite late after staking out one of the phone companies. He was hungry and tired and not looking forward to making the trek back to Brooklyn, the thought of Bucky waiting for him the only reason why he thought to bother at all.

He sat down at the bar and grabbed a menu, nodding as one of the waitresses smiled and greeted him. He’d kill for some fries and a good sandwich and a gallon of coffee. The waitress approached him and handed him a menu. She had a welcoming attitude that was a balm on Steve's tired mind.

“A club sandwich please, with a big side of fries and as much coffee as you can legally give me,” he looked at her nametag and froze. It said _Angie_. He looked at the menu again and specifically at the logo: _L &L Automat_. He wanted to laugh at himself, how could he have forgotten? Peggy had told him about the automat, where she'd often go to eat, how she'd made friends with one of the waitresses. This had to be Peggy’s Angie. Question was only, if they’d already met. Angie had taken his order with a ‘ _Sure, sugar,_ ’ and gone to get him his coffee and put his order in. Steve had two options now: ask after Peggy and hope that they’d met and that she’d be forthcoming or stake out the L&L and hope that Peggy would show up soon. The first might be quicker. The second, depending off how suspicious Angie would be, might be the surer way to find Peggy.

When Angie came back with his food and his coffee, he gave her a big smile and a charming ‘ _Thank you, Angie_ ’ that had her blushing and smiling on her way back behind the counter. 1945 Steve might not have known how to talk to women but 21st century Natasha had made sure that that wasn’t the case anymore.

In the end he decided against direct action, tipping Angie generously and leaving without mentioning Peggy. Time wasn’t of the essence.

Back home he told Bucky about the progress. First, he looked elated then suddenly he was subdued. When Steve asked him, what was wrong he refused to answer, but as they sat down on the couch, Steve too tired to draw but happy to listen to something on the radio, Bucky huddled close and finally, tentatively, put his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve was already half asleep and automatically lifted his arm to fit Bucky under it. They fell asleep just like that.

 

Steve went back to the L&L the next day, deciding he might just spend his days there, getting to know Angie and hoping for Peggy to just walk in. He needed to draw anyway. The automat was the perfect place for that and while he was working and drinking coffee, he could get Angie talking. And she was happy to talk, telling him about her aspiration to become an actress, about the terrible land lady at her hotel and the other girls. He tried to ask about the girls, gossiping with her, hoping that Peggy’s name would drop. It hadn’t so far. All he same he enjoyed his talks with Angie, and he got a lot of work done, while waiting for progress to come knocking.

Sometimes Bucky would tag along. As an invalid Bucky had not tried to find any work yet and apparently, he was happy to just enjoy his life, hanging out with his family, going to the library to get more books to read and spending time with Steve. He also got along with Angie like a house on fire, maybe even better than Steve and Angie did. When Steve was drawing, Bucky usually took out one of his pulp novels. They were light enough to be read with one hand, which he appreciated. Steve had also seen him read books on natural sciences though, especially physics, and when asked about it he had just said ‘ _Now, that I know the stuff in these things is actually possible, learning ‘bout it is kinda more exciting_.’

Steve was happy for him. Bucky had never been big on school, even though he had been great at maths and took to new knowledge like a fish to water. Steve knew that the G.I. Bill had been introduced a year prior. It would allow thousands of veterans to attend college after the war. Maybe Bucky Barnes would be one of them.

 

Steve had been living back in 1945 for eight months when Angie said something that made his heart stop. “And you know, English, she comes in here, always drinking her tea at night, always looking either miserable or furious, when she thinks no one’s looking. It makes me real sad, ya know? I don’t think she’s got many friends in the city, being foreign and all.”

“English?” is all Steve managed to respond to that. Angie laughed, “Yeah, that’s what I call her, right? The accent and all.” Steve just nodded, vaguely grateful that Bucky wasn’t here that day. “She works at some phone company and apparently the men she’s working with there are, and pardon my French, some real a-holes.” Steve grasping for the opportunity that had suddenly presented itself jumped in. “What’s the name of the company she’s working for?” That stopped Angie in her tracks and suddenly cautious, she seized him up in a way she hadn’t before. “What do you care?”

“I just did some ad work for some real a-holes, if you’d pardon my French, at a phone company in Manhattan. Talked to a girl with a British accent. Real nice lady. Her name was Peggy, I think.”

“That’s her!” Angie exclaimed, “What a small world, ain’t it?” Steve nodded, his heart still pounding. “She come here regularly? I’d remember if I’d seen her around.” Angie laughed. “Not as often as you, Steve. You’re basically part of the interior design by now. She comes once or twice a week, usually for a late dinner. You've definitely missed her a couple of times, not by much though.” Steve cursed internally. He had bet on Peggy coming in for lunch or breakfast and not after eight. He’d always tried to be on his way back to Brooklyn and Bucky by six thirty. “I might just have to stick around then late one of these days then. Didn’t get the chance to tell her what I think of her colleagues when we met. Think I oughta give her my sympathies.” Angie laughed in agreement, before filling up his coffee cup once more.

 

Steve was tempted to stay long right that day, but it was Friday and he’d promised Bucky to take him to the pictures. Either way, it might be less probable to stop by an automat on a Friday night than when one had work in the morning. Without smartphones, or any phones really, he also could not phone Bucky and tell him, he’d be home late. These were the reasons Steve told himself, when he left the automat as he always did by six thirty and went back to Brooklyn to catch an eight o’clock showing of a new Joan Crawford movie that he hadn’t seen in years.

Joan Crawford was still a force to be reckoned with and when Bucky was nearly crying at the end, Steve teased him a little, which got him a deserved hit on the head. They chatted about the movie and the great dames of Hollywood all the way home, where they exhaustedly fell into their beds.

Steve didn’t bring up his new information till Sunday night. While it was at the back of his mind, the summer had decided to say it’s final good bye that weekend and early October was mildly warm and sunny. Bucky and Steve decided to drive out to Coney Island one final time and had a blast going on the rides on Saturday, while Sunday after Bucky had seen his family, was spent doing the chores around the apartment. When they were cuddled on the couch together in the evening, Steve divulged the new information. Bucky didn’t ask why he hadn’t been told earlier. He just accepted the information and started planning ahead. “Do you think it be better to talk to Carter alone first? I mean it’s a wild story. Not sure if me being there makes it more or less believable.” Steve grinned. “I’d say you are first and foremost a very convincing character witness. And ya can also tell her first hand about what happened since… since the train.” Bucky nodded and the next day they went to the automat later than usual, planning to stay into the night.

 

They weren’t lucky the first three nights but on the second Thursday of October 1945 a very tired looking Peggy Carter walked into the automat and Steve forgot how to breathe. This was the Peggy he remembered best, impeccable red lipstick and a poise to every move she made. Even with the tired look in her face, she exuberated power and confidence and all he could do was be caught by her sight. She went up to the counter, exchanging a couple of words with Angie who actually pointed towards the booth Steve and Bucky were sitting in. Peggy seemed confused then cautious and as she turned to look at them, Steve turned to look at Bucky. Bucky was studying him. Apparently, he had not even turned to look when Peggy had walked in, his gaze fixed on Steve looking at Peggy. Before Steve could interpret what Bucky was looking for, Peggy had stepped up to their table and was looking at them in turn.

“I cannot tell, what I am looking at,” her accent was crisp, and her words cautiously chosen, “I am looking at two ghosts and neither of them looks the way they did when they departed from this mortal coil. Explain.” And with that she dragged a chair over and looked at them expectedly. Bucky was apparently speechless, and Steve felt at a loss for words.

Ultimately, it was Bucky and not Steve who spoke up, “I didn’t die when I fell from the train. Steve saved me before others, who weren’t that interested in saving me anyway, could. And now we need to save Steve because he also didn’t die. He’s just frozen somewhere off the shore of Canada, of all places. Also, this is Steve but from the future.” Bucky’s gaze had been fixed on Peggy while he spoke, waiting for a reaction. She didn’t give away much and when he was done, Bucky looked at Steve, as if to ask if he’d forgotten something. Steve shook his head.

“And you’ve come to me now...?” Her poker face was impeccable but Steve could hear the slight tremble in her voice. “We need to get me out. Bucky’s supposed to be dead and I’m not supposed to exist. You’re the only one I knew we could trust, and I sort of knew how to find.” Her gaze was fixed on him now. “How did you find me?” He held her gaze steadily. “You’ll tell me about your time at the SSR in New York. You’ll tell me about Angie.” Peggy gasped. It seemed that it was that minute detail that convinced her, like only the banal and unimportant can, when convincing someone of something impossible.

“Steve. _Our_ Steve,” her eyes darted at Bucky, “is alive?” Finally, her voice broke and Bucky leaned over so that he could touch her shoulder with his hand. “I know, Peggy. I know.” She leaned into his touch and again Steve asked himself how alone she might have been after the war. She only took a minute to compose herself. “Let’s get him out.”


	6. VI

Peggy wasn’t in contact per se with Howard, but she definitely knew how to reach him and by Saturday they were driving up to Howard’s mansion in New York state. Peggy hadn’t told Howard what the meeting was about, unwilling to divulge such sensitive information in any way but personal. After Bucky had fallen from the train and Steve had crashed into the ocean, Howard had spent the next four weeks searching for the wreckage. They had found the Tesseract but no trace of Steve or the plane. Bucky bit his lip and Steve could barely contain his fury. They’d spent four weeks during an ongoing war searching the ocean for him. No one had spared a day to collect Bucky’s body.

Howard’s estate was huge, lavish but tasteful. A man Peggy introduced as Jarvis opened the door and Steve nearly walked into a wall, when he heard him speak. For a second, he wanted to ask Tony about this. Then he remembered that’d he’d never get the chance. The pain that flamed up at the thought was all consuming and he did his best to push it back into the corner of his heart, where he kept all the thoughts and feelings about his other life, as he’d started calling it. Jarvis brought them into a sitting room, inquiring after their names to give to Mr. Stark but Peggy told him that the visitors were what they needed to discuss. Jarvis inclined his head lightly and left the room.

Steve was sitting between Peggy and Bucky. Peggy was sitting on the edge of her seat, while Bucky seemed to move closer and closer to him, visibly uncomfortable with where he was.

They heard Howard before they saw him, loudly talking to Jarvis, while Jarvis voice was just a quiet murmur. “What do you mean, she wouldn’t give you names, Jarvis? That’s unacceptable, what kind of crooks did Peggy bring into my house, huh?” As he rounded the corner, Peggy huffed out a deep breath, stood up and walked towards him with outstretched hands and a smile on her face. “The only crook here, are you, Howard.”

“Blimey, Peggy! You’re getting more and more beautiful every time I see you. How’s the SSR? Those bastards still making you type reports and make their coffee?” Steve could see Peggy’s smile becoming a little stilted. “Yes, and one of these days I’ll confuse the coffee and the ink and someone’s going to die of poison, and I will refuse to be held accountable.” Howard laughed loudly. “I see, I see. Well, then,” and with that he tried to catch a glimpse of his other two guests, “who did you bring me?” Peggy didn’t move out of the way. “You might want to sit down for this, Howard.” He raised an eyebrow at her and then tried to catch another glimpse. As, he made no move to be seated Peggy sighed and continued. “I present to you, Sergeant Barnes, presumed dead but very much alive, if a limp short,” Bucky waved at Howard with his one hand, “And Captain Rogers, travelled back in time to tell us that he definitely didn’t die and we should not stop searching for him. Also, he saved Barnes after falling from the train.” Peggy had turned towards Steve and Bucky as she’d introduced them and as she turned back around, she just so caught Howard, before he fell to the floor. Steve was up instantly, leaning over Howard to check his pulse. Peggy shook his head. “He’ll come to in a second. When he works, he doesn’t eat enough and when his sugar gets too low, he faints.”

It took only a couple of moments and some smelling salt that Jarvis provided before Howard was up again. Jarvis handed him a sandwich and made him sit down. He ate all the while staring between Bucky and Steve, amazement written on his face.

“So, you really have to explain to me how that worked, Cap,” Howard was telling him between bits and Steve laughed. “I might be from the future, Howard, but that doesn’t mean I’ve become a tech expert. I could give you the cliff notes, but I’d rather not give you any ideas. Aside, we have something else to get to.” Howard turned sombre instantly. “You’re right. We have to get you, or well other you? Younger you? I don’t know how this works,” Steve just shrugged, “out of the ice and under a thermal blanket. You say you know the coordinates?” Steve nodded. He had read his own file more than once out of morbid curiosity. “I still have all the equipment from the search for … our Steve. I only need a couple of days to organise transport. Hire a crew.”

“How many people do you need?” Steve asked. Howard shrugged. “Not many, it’s a small vessel but you said its under ice? We might actually need more time. Organise icebreakers or ice drills, deepening on where you got buried.”

 “I will join you,” Peggy interjected, before Howard could go on about logistics. “I wanna come to,” Bucky said from the couch, they all turned towards him. “I wanna see him, when they find him.” Peggy nodded understandingly but thinking about how content Bucky had been in New York Steve couldn’t help but say, “I didn’t wake up till I was back in New York, days after they’d found me. You could stay here and still be there when he wakes up.” Bucky’s one hand was tightly closed over the edge of his seat. “Are you going?” he asked Steve after a short pause. Steve hadn’t considered this yet. The plan had been to find Bucky, Peggy and Howard and point them towards himself and leave them with the knowledge how to protect the yet to be founded Shield from Hydra. This was the moment he was supposed to leave them to it. But he couldn’t. Bucky was looking at him, and he knew he had to see this through. “Yes, I’ll go Bucky. I told you, I’d get him back for you, and I stand by that.”

Bucky stood up at that, taking the two steps it took to reach their little circle by Howard’s seat. “Well then, pal. I already told ya, that I’ll follow you anywhere. With ya till the end of the line.” Bucky’s hand was warm on his shoulder and in that moment, it was only them in the room. This Bucky couldn’t possibly know, what these words meant to Steve. But then again, of course he did. Bucky was always Bucky and he’d always mean everything.

It was Howard who broke the moment. Done with his sandwich he put his plate on a little side table, dabbed the corner of his mouth and stood up. He held out his hand for Bucky.

“I am very glad to have you back, Sergeant. If any of us had it thought possible that you might have survived the drop, we would have gone looking for you, war zone or no. I am very sorry, we left you hanging.” Bucky slowly took his hand away from Steve’s shoulder and shook Howard’s. He didn’t say a word, but his smile was as genuine as it was surprised. Not for the first time Steve had to wonder, why Bucky wasn’t more outraged about no one coming to look for him. It hurt Steve to even attempt to consider the why of it all.

 

Howard brought them to one of his labs. He’d told Jarvis to get the maps of Canada and the Atlantic. Steve knew the coordinates where they found him by heart, and he was able to pinpoint it on the map quickly. Howard, caressing his moustache and studying the maps, considered their next step. “So, this is really more of a snow expedition than a deep ocean thing. No wonder we didn’t find you. Were looking in all the wrong places.” Steve nodded. The Tesseract had hit the water minutes before he had. At the speed he’d been going that meant miles and miles. “I know when they were getting me out, they didn’t really try to get the plane out. They just cut a hole into the top and then went in and grabbed the … Capsicle.” Steve grimaced both at his choice of words and the memory it brought with it. “Capsicle?” Howard grinned, “Good one.” Steve smiled despite himself. Howard was one of the friends he had lost to the past. He was so like his son and then again so different. He wished he could tell Howard what a great son he’d have one day. Then again, if it all went right, this time around Howard would get to see that himself.

“If it’s a snow expedition, do we really need that many more people? I mean we need warm clothing, light, a cutting torch, rope, maybe even a rope ladder, transport, including a way to store our frozen Steve, so that we can de-frost him in a controlled environment,” Peggy was counting the things on her fingers, “am I forgetting something?” Howard considered her. “No, that is basically it. I’d say we should also take hammer and chisel. Capsiscle might be frozen to something and we might not want to get him unstuck with the cutting torch.” Peggy and Howard looked at Steve, but he didn’t have anything further to add. “Do we need more people then? Us four should be enough,” Peggy mused, and Howard interjected. “Jarvis will be coming as well and with that, I think, we might be just fine.”

“We should make haste then, before the days get even shorter and we have next to no daylight so far up North.” Howard nodded enthusiastically. They decided that three days should be enough to make travel arrangements. Howard was going to organise the gear they needed. They could take his private plane up north and then get jeeps to make the rest of the track. At this time of year, the way would be frozen already, making it save to drive over the ice. They’d take two jeeps, one carrying three people and the gear, the other taking the other two and a big enough refrigerator to fit a frozen super soldier. Peggy was going to organise transport in Canada, and get the authorities to cooperate, as far their involvement was helpful. If all went well, they should be back within a week.

 

Peggy dropped them back off at their flat in Brooklyn. No one had said much during the hour drive. Steve had opted to take the backseat with Bucky, who had fallen asleep on him twenty minutes in. Steve had been looking out the dark window, but from time to time he had caught Peggy looking at them sharply through the rear-view mirror. As he had caught her gaze the fifth time, he hadn’t looked away but raised an eyebrow instead. She had smiled.

When she had spoken, she had spoken quietly, barely audible over the sound of the engine. “I don’t think I ever quite realised how much he loves you. I was aware that he did, but this, …” she had shaken her head, her eyes focused on the street. Steve hadn’t replied. Bucky had been warm and heavy at his side.

Bucky didn’t so much as stir during the rest of the drive, not even when Peggy pulled up at the curb, only rousing slightly when Steve moved to exit the car. Peggy excited the car with him, putting a hand on Bucky’s door before he could wake him up and help him out. “It will hurt him when you leave,” her voice was still quiet, but more intense than before. Steve had been at a loss for words. This had never been the plan. Save Bucky, find Peggy, get him out of the ice. He shouldn’t have stayed so long. “I need to go, Pegs. I still have a mission to finish and this isn’t my time anymore. One Steve is more than enough, don’t ya think?” He had tried to make her laugh, but she hadn’t even smiled. “Maybe, if there was for each of us.” With this she had stepped back and turned to get back into the car. Steve had been frozen for a moment, contemplating what that exactly meant, but when Peggy let the engine roar back to life, he had quickly opened the door and dragged a sleep-heavy Bucky out of the car and up to the apartment.

Inside Bucky didn’t regain much consciousness and so Steve simply manoeuvred him towards the bedroom and onto his bed. He took Bucky’s shoes off, wrangled him out of his jacket, tie and shirt and back into a sleeping shirt. Finally, he discarded off Bucky’s pants all with minimal help by the other man. The same procedure took a tenth of the time when he performed it on himself, including actually going to the sink to brush his teeth. When he came back, Bucky was lying on his side, barely awake but aware of Steve and his surroundings.

Steve was about to get under his covers when Bucky spoke. “Remember when you were tiny and ya got sick? You sometimes got so cold that nothing could warm you up, especially in the winter and then I crawled into bed with you and wrapped myself around you, so you wouldn’t die and leave me.” Steve nodded, unsure of where this was going. When Bucky didn’t say anything else, Steve wondered if he’d just fallen asleep again. He was about to blow out the last candle, when Bucky spoke again. “Steve?” Bucky’s voice was a whisper and if he’d already been falling asleep or had not possessed super soldier hearing, he might have missed it. “I’m cold.” The request was clear, and Steve could not deny the vulnerability in his friend’s voice. He got up from his bed and crossed the small room to the other cot. “Move over, Buck,” he mumurred, and Bucky shuffled closer to the wall, his back to Steve. Cautiously, as not to break the bed or maybe Bucky, Steve crawled into bed with him, fitting himself to Bucky’s back, wrapping his arms and legs around his friend, before tugging the covers up to their shoulders. Steve barely allowed himself to move a muscle but slowly by slowly, lulled by Bucky’s deep steady breathing, Steve feel asleep.

 

The next three days were a quiet affair. Steve finished what work he had still lying around, mostly worried to get that extra cash in before they left for the north. He knew that Bucky would always be able to take care of himself, and here, in this time, he had his family, as well as Peggy and Howard to look out for him and, soon enough, his own Steve. Still, he wanted to know that Bucky would get by in their apartment for a bit.

Steve had thought about trying to take in as much of his Brooklyn as possible, unsure of whether he would return from the north, or if he should take his leave as soon as his younger self was secured on shore, but with the work he was doing, they spent most of the next three days at the apartment. Bucky stayed with him, only going to see his Ma once, telling her that he’d take a trip up the coast with a friend for a couple days, get some fresh air and the such.

Bucky stayed close, curled next to him on the couch, tucked under his arm, or his feet in Steve’s lap. A part of Steve had forgotten how tactile a person Bucky had always been. When Bucky had been bigger than him, he had always been reaching of for Steve, tugging him under his arm, squeezing his shoulder, hugging him or just putting a hand at his back. Bucky’s touch had been comfort, sometimes a reminder to keep his temper, but mainly it had been steady and unwavering. It was only now that he considered it in retrospect, that he realised how Bucky’s behaviour had changed during the war, after Zola. They had huddled for warmth but even then, there had been a distance beginning to form between these two young friends. Bucky had been following him, but he’d also stepped into his shadow, having his back, but more drawn into himself than he had ever been. Steve remembered picking up on that but pushing that thought away. It had been wartime. They had all been on edge all of the time. He had believed that it would be different, once they got home. Maybe Bucky also just hadn’t known how to touch a Steve who looked so little like the man he’d known.

The Bucky he’d found in the 21st century was of course a whole new matter. He was drawn into himself to the extreme, doubtful of his worth as a person, unwilling to bother other people, especially Steve with his programmed vulnerability. He had saved Steve and then left to disappear into the night, in order to not bring Steve down, not disappoint him by not being the man, he had known. Bucky never initiated touch anymore. Always waiting for Steve to make the first move, only then to press into the hug or the touch. Steve should have hugged him more.

The Bucky at his side right now had come to consciousness after his fall with Steve holding his hand and not letting go. Maybe that had made all the difference.

 

Howard sent Jarvis to pick them up on the evening before their departure. It was easier to all spend the night at his estate and get to the private airfield in the morning, instead of Peggy, Bucky and Steve having to get a car themselves. They arrived for dinner and of course Howard had gone all out, serving the three of them a lavish meal.

As they were all seated, Peggy told them that she’d been staying at Howard’s since yesterday already. “I literally called into the office, told them I had cramps and my boss was silent for what felt like a full minute before telling me to take the week, if needed. These men know nothing about women and it’s the first time I am grateful for it.” She smiled and rolled her eyes, but Steve could see that the disregard they showed her bothered her, if only by limiting her opportunities as an agent. As dinner went on, Steve stepped back from the conversation, letting three of the most important people in his life talk to each other. It occurred to him that this had never happened in _his_ life. It could now. This could be their life. He imagined a younger version of himself sitting here, sharing in the laughter, the memory of Bucky falling from the train just a bad dream, and Peggy’s voice as she begged him not to die, overtaken by her laughter. When he had gone into the ice, he’d already known hardship, and death and loss, but he had been a little less marked by pain. He knew that the Steve in the ice could really be with them, not haunted by the tragedies of people, they’d never know, not missing people they might never meet.

           

After dinner Jarvis showed them to their guest rooms. Bucky whistled and Steve understood; each of the rooms was nearly the size of their own apartment, all with en suite bathrooms, while they still had to go to an outhouse. Peggy said her goodnight quickly, giving them a bright smile as she made her way to her room, a spring in her step. Steve’s eyes followed her until she disappeared behind her door.

“She’s really looking forward to getting Steve back,” Bucky observed, and Steve turned to look at him. Bucky’s eyes were still focused on Peggy’s door, but he caught his gaze, when he noticed Steve looking. “I think she’s also just glad to be on actual mission again,” Steve observed and chuckled, “Besides, aren’t you?”

Bucky bit his lip, “In a weird way, I never really lost him. But I am glad we’re getting you out. Being frozen for so long, that’s no way to be.” Steve nodded and then, on impulse, drew Bucky into a hug. He fit perfectly into his embrace, the one arm he had coming up, his hand curling into the hair in Steve’s neck. Bucky was pressing close into Steve and Steve only held on tighter.


	7. VII

When they landed in Canada, it was already too late to continue towards the side of Steve’s crash. Thankfully, Peggy had arranged for them to stay at a research facility. Howard was fascinated by the research and when they left the next morning in the jeeps provided for them, they left their plane in good care and with very happy scientists fawning over a research grand they’d just received from the Stark Industries.

They started out as early as possible in order to have as much natural light as they could get, but it still took them nearly as long to get to the location Steve had pointed out, as it had taken them to fly from New York to Canada. And yet, as the sun was already threatening to go down and Steve started to worry, that they might have to turn around already, afraid to get lost in the dark and cold, they saw something in the distance. Metal gleaming in the red sun.

From the passenger seat, Bucky looked at him with wide eyes and Steve himself felt jittery with excitement and nerves.

They stopped the jeeps a couple of yards from where they could see part of the plane. As they got closer, they realised that most of the top was visible from the outside. Only the nose and the bottom where enveloped in the ice. Carefully they stepped along the parameter, looking where to best get inside. “He was in the cockpit when he crashed,” Peggy said now, stepping towards a part they’d had to assume was closest to that part. She looked at Steve, who nodded. “When I was found, there was a lot more ice and I was basically engulfed in it. It’s only been a bit more than half a year. Might make it easier for us.”

Cautiously Howard stepped onto the plane, his step slippery on iced-over metal. Everyone held their breath for a second, but the plane stayed stuck in the ice where it was, unmoving. Steve handed him the cutting torch and protective glasses and Howard cut a perfect circle into the metal of the plane, big enough to let a grown man, even a super soldier, through. As Howard stepped back, he put the cutting torch on the ice and looked at his four companions. “I’ll go first,” Peggy finally volunteered. Steve smiled at her. Bucky bit his lip, his one hand clenching and unclenching.

Howard let her pass towards the hole in the ceiling. “Do you want a hand getting down there, Peggy? I couldn’t tell how deep it went.” Peggy kneeled by the hole, taking out a torch, clicking it on and lighting down. “Should be fine,” she said, put the torch away and climbed into the hole. A second later they heard a quite thud, as she landed inside the plane. “You okay, Pegs?” Steve couldn’t help but yell, only feeling a little less jittery when she answered in the affirmative. Then there was nothing but tense silence. None of them said a word as they looked around nervously, eyes darting form the hole to each other, trying to share a reassuring smile, when they caught someone’s gaze. “Jarvis,” Howard finally said after what felt like hours but had more likely been five minutes, “Would you be so kind to get your camera and document what you can? Try not to get Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes into the shot though.” Steve looked at him questioningly and Howard elaborated that having picture evidence would make the talk they were bound to have with the American military that much easier. Steve acquiesced.

It was another ten minutes before they heard a muffled scream from within the metal contraption. “I can’t tell if that’s good or bad,” Bucky remarked nervously. Howard looked around unsure. “The plane hasn’t moved so far, I’ll just go down after her,” and with that Howard disappeared down the hole, Jarvis looking as if he wanted nothing more than to jump right behind him and at the same time wished he was very much dusting something off, on the other side of the continent right now.

Another couple of tense minutes passed, in which Steve had to fight every instinct to go after them before Howard reappeard, yelling for someone to let the rope-ladder down. Jarvis ran back to the jeep and quickly, they had let it down, Steve holding it steady, so Howard could come up. Howard was brimming with excitement as he emerged from the plane.

“He’s here! You’re down there! Frozen solid! I first thought you were dead. You look dead but you’re standing there, so I guess he… you… Frozen!” Bucky made a broken sound, moving towards the hole, like he wanted to go down too, but Steve held him back. Howard continued on, nearly ouf of breath but buzzing with energy. “Peggy’s with him, don’t think she’ll leave him, until we move him. The shield’s down there, too. But he’s there. He’s alive! We just need to get him up.”

“I should be able to carry… me,” Steve said, still holding Bucky by the arm. He looked at him, “Can you and Jarvis take care of the ladder? Then I’ll go down and we’ll get him up.” Bucky was tense under his fingers, still barely stopping himself from trying to worm out of Steve's grip. With a deep breath he forced himself to realx and nodded, his eyes not shifting away from the hole, like he was expecting Steve to emerge on his own any second. Jarvis just said ‘ _Of course, sir_ ’ and relieved him of the rope.

Howard disappeared down the ladder, but Steve decided to just jump in, wanting Bucky and Jarvis not having to strain themselves before necessary.  It was earie to be in the Valkyrie again. It was dark down here, aside from the little light from their torches. It was colder too. The plane looked different, which was to be expected after the crash it had endured, and still Steve knew the way, knew where to turn to get to the cockpit quickest.

When he entered it, it was like a vision in a strange dream. He knew the layout of the room, but the darkness and the blue of the ice through the windows made it look uncanny. And then in the middle of the room, Steve laid. His eyes closed, wearing the uniform, that’d he’d worn during the war, later to become a museum exhibit only to be once again worn, when he was fighting to get Bucky back. He was covered in a fine sheen of frost, his lips blue and skin too pale. The shield was lying off in a little distance. Peggy was hovering next to him, her eyes flitting over his body, the hand that wasn’t holding her torch, clenched at her side, like she was afraid to touch him. Her gaze shot up, but she didn’t move away from him, when they entered.

“He’s stiff as a poker; we cannot bend him in anyway, so the way he is, is the way we have to take him.” Her voice was trembling, but her smile was radiant, as Howard’s had been. Steve stepped up, handed Howard his own torch and kneeled beside himself.

He’d been to various timelines already. He had fought himself and talked with the man he’d been when he’d come out of the ice. This man would wake up to a world he knew. To the good news, that they’d won the war, that Bucky wasn’t dead. God, he couldn’t wait to tell himself, to see what that might have been like.

Carefully, he lifted himself up, seeing how to best balance his own weight, frozen stiff as he was. He was not handy, but he manged to kind of hold himself, like you might hold a door or another big piece of flat wood. Howard moved to light him the way, but Peggy told them to hold up, moving away from them both to grab the shield.

They made their way back slowly, Steve careful to manoeuvre his two bodies in a way that would minimalize any danger of either of them being knocked into doors or corners. When they reached the hole again, the light had dimmed further. They had to hurry to get back safely. Steve leant his body against the wall, took the shield from Peggy and went up the ladder first.

Bucky looked like he might throw up any second, but he and Jarvis still held steady as Steve climbed up. Steve smiled at them reassuringly, trying to hide his discomfort at the low standing sun and discarded the shield with their supplies, grabbing the rope instead.

He let it down and instantly Peggy started to secure Steve’s frozen self with it. She tugged on the rope, when it was done and Steve started to pull him up, as Peggy and Howard manoeuvred him in the right position on the plane, while Jarvis and Bucky made sure, that he did not get stuck under the ceiling. It was a slow and arduous procedure but then Steve was outside, lying on the top of the plane that should have been his frozen tomb for over half a century. Bucky fell down beside him, having none of the reservations Peggy had shown and grabbing at Steve’s frozen body. He cupped his cheek, muttering to him. Over the wind that had taken up, Steve heard something like ‘ _You punk_ ’ and ‘ _Always need to be the hero_ ’. It made him smile. Jarvis was already getting the jeeps ready for departure, so Steve quickly let the ladder back down and within the minute, both Howard and Peggy were outside again.

Peggy glanced at Steve’s frozen from and then at the sky before nodding towards the jeeps, “We need to get going.” Steve couldn’t have agreed more and while Peggy grabbed the ladder, Steve touched Bucky’s shoulder, urging him to get up and let Steve carry his younger self. Bucky obliged but followed Steve like a shadow, as he walked towards the refrigerator, they had stored in one of the jeeps. The motors were already running, and Peggy and Howard jumped into the one, Jarvis was already sitting in. Bucky opened the casket like freezer and carefully Steve placed himself into it. It shut and Steve let out a deep breath.

He was taken out of his reverie by Peggy yelling to get a move on and with one more tug at Bucky’s hand, they made their way to the driver’s cabin and then back to where they'd come from.

 

They didn’t make it back to the research facility before sundown. It was already dark night and their only saving grace was the cloudless night sky, the moon full and bright, as well as their combined skill in navigating with nothing but said stars and a compass. Still, they drove slower, to make sure that they didn’t lose the way and, in the end, would freeze to death, next to the Capsicle.

It was close to ten at night when they saw the lights of the research facility in the distance. The lights that were still on, indicating that their hosts had been worried about them and indeed, as they closed the distance, Steve could see people running out, greeting them, relieved.

As much as all five of them wanted to get back home as quickly as possible, they needed rest and none of them were in the mental state to pilot a jet back to New York in the cold night for hours on end. So, they stored the fridge safely inside the facility and went to bed. Bucky hung behind as they walked towards the rooms, Howard gleefully _not_ explaining to the other scientists what they had found in the ice. “I think I’ll stay with the trunk,” he told Steve quietly, “I don’t want anything to happen to him, as unlikely as it is. I’ll sleep on the plane later.” Warmth enveloped Steve at his words, a fondness that extended through his whole body and warmed the fingers and toes that had threatened to fall of in the cold.

“No, Buck. I’ll stay with … it. I don’t need as much sleep as you guys. I’ll stay for a while and if you want to, you can join me in the morning, so I can take a nap.” Bucky looked torn but nodded after a moment. Before making his way to bed, he hugged Steve tightly once more.

 

Steve settled in for a long night, next to his younger self. He wished he’d brought a book. What he did find was some paper and a pen though and he started doodling. At first he just drew little scenes, impressions from the long day they’d had: Peggy holding the shield, Bucky bent over a frozen young Steve, Howard smiling brightly; then his mind wandered and he brought scenes to paper that had never happen but that might: a young Steve reuniting with the Commandos, a young Steve dancing close with Peggy, a young Steve wrapping Bucky in an embrace on their dusty couch. Time hadn’t been of the essence, but he was still running out of it. Running out of reasons to stay. He thought of the soul stone, still secure around his neck and for the first time in years he drew Natasha. Natasha the way he would always remember her, strong and passionate, unaware of her own endless capacity for kindness. She’d always tried so hard to be one of the good guys and had seen in him someone she could trust to have the moral principles she wanted in a leader. He hoped he hadn’t failed her. On paper Natasha had her hair straight, her feet were on the dash of a car, and she was grinning at him. More than the battle of New York, this had been their start. This had been them becoming confidants. She had never let him down and still he couldn’t save her. When he blinked rapidly, he noticed that the paper was smudged with his own tears.

            That was the pain he was heading back to and still, as hard as he tried, he could not put one scene to paper, where he fit in with the images he had of his younger self and their loved ones. There was no space for more than one of him. He might have been able to replace him, but he would have robbed his younger self of a chance which he had never gotten and would have robbed those he professed to love the most of a life lived to the fullest. This wasn’t his time, and this wasn’t his universe. He kept drawing and now there was Sam laughing at him. There was Wanda standing in the kitchen and cooking one of her favourite dishes. There was Thor and Clint egging each other one over a stupid bet. And there was Bucky, sitting at a window and looking out, deep in thought.

            “Oh, Bucky,” he told the little sketch in blue ballpoint pen, “I don’t think I ever really understood you.”

 

The flight back was as tired as it was tense. No one seemed to have gotten a good night’s sleep, everyone too excited and too eager to get their precious cargo to safety. Howard was chattering as best as he could, but only Jarvis really indulged him, polite as he was. Peggy and Bucky kept looking at the freezer, like he might disappear if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on it.

            Meanwhile Steve did what he did best: he made plans.


	8. VIII

At the airfield, they were greeted by medical staff, which immediately transferred the freezer into another jeep and together with Howard sped towards the mansion. Peggy and Bucky looked ready to maul anyone who’d leave them behind so Steve entrusted Jarvis with whatever needed to be done with the plane and got the three of them to follow Howard and frozen Steve.

            By the time Steve, Bucky and Peggy reached the estate, Howard and his team were already inside. Peggy knew where Howard had planned to start the defrosting process and lead them into one of the labs that was now equipped with a medical unite. Howard was talking a mile a minute, people around him hurrying along, doing as he told them.

            “How exactly are they planning to do this?” Steve asked Peggy, not wanting to disrupt Howard. “They are going to let him rest in there and turn the cooling function down slowly, until it’s safe to expose him to room temperature. At that critical point they’ll extract him, hook him up to the machines and actually start the warming up process. If they do it too quickly, Howard thinks, you might just die after all, as the serum hasn’t gotten enough time to combat the damage done by the freezing process.”

            Steve nodded. This would take a while.

 

He left Peggy and Bucky to guard over Howard and his younger self and went to the room he’d stayed in. He took a shower, getting the sweat and grime of the journey and their rescue mission off his body. He considered to shave and then opted for a trim, before getting into more comfortable clothing than their snow expedition gear.

            When he left the bathroom a short while later, someone, most likely Jarvis, had brought him a sandwich to eat, as well as still steaming coffee. It made him smile and wonder, if their Jarvis had been so attentive thanks to this real-life model. He ate feeling some of the strength return to his body and got to work. There was pen and paper in a drawer of the desk in his room and he started to put all the information he had in his mind about Hydra and how they infiltrated Shield to paper. Everything he knew about Zola, about the Winter Soldiers, about people they’d killed or, as it were, were going to kill. It was an impressive dossier in the end. He knew that Hydra was still out there, but maybe, with this knowledge at her fingertips, Peggy could protect Shield, her legacy and the world.

            Steve wrote for hours, only noticing how much time had passed, when the room around him began to darken. No one had come to get him, just as it should be. He smiled at himself, his heart giving a little twinge.

 

When he was satisfied with the information gathered, he considered to give it to them right away but then decided to stall. For one this was a conversation he was dreading to have and on the other hand, it needed to be given to them right. He found a typewriter in Howard’s office and started to organise his notes before typing them up three times. It took him another couple of hours and when he was finished, he had to grin, imagining how quickly that would have gone with a printer or Friday’s impeccable scanning system. He’d found empty folders in Howard’s office and prepared a brief for Peggy, Howard and Bucky each. When he was done, he considerd his work, asking himself how much knowledge of the future was too much, if he should have kept something from them and if so, why. In the end he left it as it was. On an impulse he took each of them up and went to the last page, leaving each of his friends a note, a final good bye.

 

Folders in hand, he made his way back to the lab. Upon his return, everyone was still where they were hours ago.There was fewer medical staff around, but Howard was still relentlessly checking the freezer thermostat, his notes, the equipment. Bucky and Peggy had remained at the margins, only made slightly more comfortable by two chairs they’d been provided with. Jarvis was nowhere in sight.

Peggy and Bucky were still in their expedition gear and had discarded of nothing but their heavy coats. They looked tired and tense. As much as they’d been overjoyed by finding Steve’s body, they knew that this could still go wrong and end in tragedy. Steve could only hope that it had been thanks to his unique physiognomy and not to the advanced medical procedures of the 21st century, that he was still walking around.

“You two need to get some rest,” he said, his voice quiet, as he approached them carefully. They hadn’t even noticed him entering, fully focussed on the going-ons before them. Bucky just shook his head, while Peggy asked tiredly, “Could you rest if it was one of us in that freezer? Hanging onto dear life, unsure if we’d make it?” He pursed his lips; she knew the answer. He didn’t give up, though. “I have it on good authority, that I’ll make it,” he told them soothingly, “Besides, there is more I need to tell you, but I need you to be sharp for this.” Peggy and Bucky shared a look. Neither of them seemed inclined to leave but Steve pressed on, “If anything happens, I’ll get you ASAP. I promise.” They still looked reluctant so Steve added, “You know, I wouldn’t ask this of you guys, if it weren’t important.” There was more curiosity than worry in Peggy’s eyes now and so it was her not Bucky, who stood up first and, with a final squeeze to Bucky’s good shoulder, left to take a shower and a nap. Bucky made no move to get up though. Instead he was still focused on the freezer. Steve decided to give him another moment, leaving against the wall next to him, folders still secure under his arm. Peggy was gone for minutes before Bucky spoke up again.

            “Do you think he’ll stop fighting when he wakes up?” he asked out of the blue. Steve, torn out of his own silent contemplation, considered his answer thoughtfully. “Depends on whether there’s something to fight against. Or for.” “The war is over.” Bucky’s voice was tinged with desperation and Steve desperately wanted to comfort him, but he had never been anything but honest with Bucky. “Doesn’t mean the fight is.” Bucky buried his face in his hand. “You really are Steve Rogers.” His exasperation made Steve smile. “Never pretended to be anything but.” There was a pause, where Bucky still had his eyes buried and Steve’s gaze remained trained on Bucky. He didn’t look up but when he spoke, his voice sounded further away. “Did you stop fighting when you woke up?” Steve remembered coming out of the ice in a time he hadn’t known, everyone he had loved either dead or aged decades beyond his time. He had been so angry. Angry about what he had lost, about the life he hadn’t gotten to live. He had thought a lot about Peggy at that time. With Bucky believed dead before his own apparent demise, Peggy had become the personification of everything he might have had wanted and had never gotten to live in a world that wasn’t foreign to him. He had spent the first months of his new found life either alone or in Shield crash courses about recent history, to get used to modern times.

“Service was all that I had, when I came to,” he paused. “But it’s how I found purpose again. And my family.” Bucky shot him a look at that. “You got hitched and didn’t tell me?” Steve smiled sadly. “Different kind of family.” Bucky went silent again, his gaze darting back to the freezer and to Howard talking to one of the nurses. “Have you ever stopped fighting since?” Steve could barely hide the flinch, memories of Tony moving on during these five years, about him trying to help people in his own small way, welling up. He had not been fighting anyone, but he had not been resting either.

“I guess the closest I ever got, was since I got here,” he admitted. Bucky grimaced, “Getting an MIA sergeant out of Axis territory, only to then smuggle him across an ocean and then going on stake out missions that end in a covert snow expedition/rescue mission, is not my idea of ‘not fighting’.” Steve couldn’t disagree with that. Exhaustion was written all over Bucky’s face. He’d been recovering but as much as they’d been able to enjoy their time, Steve could see now that Bucky had never let the Steve in the ice stray from his thoughts. ‘ _He’s still trying to look out for me. For him_ ,’ Steve thought and stepped closer, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder, who leant into the touch.

“This new information you have for us,” Bucky inquired then, “That’s something new to fight against, ain’t it?” Steve sighed. “Sadly, nothing new. Just making sure that something dead, stays dead.” Bucky tensed under Steve’s hand. “Hydra,” he concluded instantly. “Yes.”

At that Bucky stood up immediately. “He’ll be fighting then,” Bucky said, without a doubt in his voice, “I’ll see you at the briefing. I’ll be quick.” With that Bucky left, hurrying to get to his rooms, leaving Steve to look after him.

 

In the end it was Jarvis, not Steve who convinced Howard to take a break as well. Steve wondered if Tony’s AI had also learned that from the person himself.

            It didn’t take long for all of them to find their way back into he lab though. Bucky arrived first, hair still partially wet and not all of the buttons on his shirt made up. Bucky had learned to do them with one hand, but it took longer, and it took patience. When Steve saw it, he gave Bucky a questioning look and as he got a shy smile, he stepped closer to do the buttons up correctly. Peggy was next. She’d taken the time to do her make-up and hair and looked fantastic as always. Howard was last and went straight past the three of them to check on the progress. When it was clear that it would be still be a while until they could move on to the next stage, he agreed to have their meeting.

            Steve motioned the three of them to sit down in the seating area in Howard’s office; he selected to remain standing. “When I came here, I had three goals: save Bucky, get my younger self out of the ice and protect Shield.” Howard’s mouth dropped open at that, but Steve went on before he could interject. “Yes, Howard the organisation you envision will come true and you could not have selected a better partner for it than Peggy, but despite its fine principles and its good work, there was something rotting inside of Shield right from the start. Something neither of you saw. Something that nearly destroyed the world, decades in the future.” Bucky looked pained, while Howard and Peggy both looked deeply concerned. “Hydra didn’t die with Schmidt, just as it wasn’t born by him.” Howard and Peggy both cursed at that in equally creative, if distinctive ways. Steve held up a hand. “I know you have many questions and I’d hope you’ll find answers to most of them in the dossier I wrote for you. The biggest threat I can think of is Arnim Zola, but it wasn’t the Nazis who brought Hydra to this land. They were just uniquely compatible. You’ll have to be cautious, but I hope that this knowledge will help you to see, what went unnoticed for far too long.”

 

In the end they talked for hours about the information Steve had given them. First, they all sat quietly and read. Howard was done first, and he excused himself to check on the lab while the other two finished.

            Steve could see that he’d put a further dampener on their excitement about finding Steve. They thought they’d only need to worry about Steve’s recovery; now they were faced with information pertaining to the stability and well-being of their world. Peggy had cursed quietly while reading. Bucky had been silent, but Steve had seen him blanch a couple of times. Steve had debated with himself whether or nor to include the chapter on the Winter Soldier program. In the end it would have been reckless to leave it out. Zola was out there, and as long as Zola was alive and could continue to amass and pass on knowledge, Bucky wasn’t safe. Not even at home in the US.

            Steve went to get Howard when Peggy put her file down, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. When Howard and Steve returned, Bucky was done as well. They didn’t know where to start at first but then Bucky whispered, “Zola shoulda’ve never gotten a second chance. He should be tried as the murderer he is.” Howard nodded. Peggy looked over at Bucky. “He will be,” she simply said but with a conviction, no one dared to question. Bucky looked relieved.

            From there they went through all the information Steve had given them. They asked and schemed, and Steve answered questions and pointed out problems where appropriate. Otherwise he left the work to them. As much as he wanted it to be, this wasn’t his fight. Another him would finish what he’d help start though.

            It was again close to dusk, when they disbanded. Steve urged them all to get some sleep but none of them were willing and so he convinced them to stay in the lab in shifts. Bucky looked dead on his feet and it didn’t take too much to get him to take second shift. Howard admitted that he had not napped earlier and went to bed as well.

            So, it was Peggy and Steve who found themselves in the lab. Steve sat down in one of the chairs that were standing close to the entrance, away from any potential hustle, while Peggy stepped up to the freezer and cautiously put her hands on it. It was then that Steve realised that he hadn’t been alone with Peggy since he’d come here.

            She was still turned away from him and he was at a loss for words. He’d often dreamt about her, especially after he’d just woken up in the 21st century. With Bucky believed dead, she had symbolised the life he hadn’t lived, all the things he’d never gotten to do. He had imagined dancing with her and maybe building a life with her. They’d have had children. A son maybe. They would have named him Joseph James Rogers. He would have called him JJ, Bucky being too painful, and told him all the stories about the two brave men he was named after. They would have built Shield together. They would have had a good life.

            He’d buried that fantasy a long time ago. It wasn't a life he could see himself in anymore. He did not know what to say to here, aside the things he’d already told her. With Bucky he’d talk hours about the life they’d had and then the little home they’d made over the last couple of months. In the silence now he realised that Peggy had been less about a loss of what they’d had, but about what might’ve been. Something unsure and fragile and therefore whatever he had wanted, _needed_ , it to be in his head.

            In the end it was Peggy who spoke. “Did you ever get that dance, Steve?” The question surprised him, though he guessed it shouldn’t have. It was what all of their relationship was built on. A desire and a promise.

            “Sadly, I never did,” he admitted. She turned at that, a sad smile on her red lips. “No time like the present then, don’t you think?” She held out her hand to him and he blinked at her. “There’s no music,” he stuttered. Natasha would have been disgusted with him. Peggy’s smile turned into a genuine grin and then she started singing. She always had had a pleasant voice. She wasn’t an outstanding singer, but she could hold a tune and Steve was transfixed as he got up and took her hand. He knew the song. _I’m in the mood for love_. He’d heard it many times by Frances Langford, had even seen her at a troop concert once, but the way Peggy sang it, it reminded him more of Doris Day.

            Peggy drew him close, put his other hand onto her waist and hers on his chest. She slowly turned them in a circle, pressing close to him, as she sang into his ear. ‘ _Why stop to think of whether this little dream might fade? We've put our hearts together. Now we are one, I'm not afraid!’_ She smelled like he remembered her. She felt like he remembered her, too. This was _his_ Peggy. Or at least the one who might’ve become his.

The song wasn’t long and soon Peggy had sung the last note. They stood there, in the middle of Howard Stark’s lab for a moment longer, nearly clinging to each other. She leant her forehead onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. Then she stepped back. He let her go.

 

Howard and Bucky came to relieve them five hours later. Bucky gave him a faint smile as he stepped up to the freezer as Peggy had earlier, while trying not to get into Howard’s way. Steve let them be and hurried to bed. He was exhausted, but he found no reprieve from that feeling. He would have to content himself with the knowledge that he’d given them a good shot at something great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear people. First of all hella thanks for the comments and positive feedback. We're drawing to a close and I hope you'll like the ending. This fic was mostly just working me through my emotions and frustrations with Age of Ultron Vol. 2, if ya know what I mean. Anyway, I am considering writing more fics in this multi-verse, maybe about 2012!Steve's fight against Hydra together with the other Avengers, or Peggy Carter covertly finding Steve in 1970. Or ya know life in 1945, whatever that means (you'll see). It might take a bit though, but do tell me if you're interested in this world.  
> What I really wanted to leave you with though is the link to the Doris Day song I imagine Peggy singing. It's from the 1930s and Peggy and Steve would have known a different version. I think the Doris Day simplicity fits the mood though, so imagine this while they get there dance to a not stucky song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_Ltk2-If0g


	9. IX

The next bout of excitement had happened around four in the afternoon. Steve had defrosted enough for the next phase. Bucky, Peggy and Steve stood back, as Howard and his team got Steve out of the freezer and hooked him up to an oxygen mask, carefully got him out of his uniform, put an IV in and gingerly wrapped him first in blankets and then in heating blankets. They attached a monitor to see his heartrate, which was there but barely so.

            “It will tell us, when he’s close to waking up. I think it will be best to give him a sedative then, keep him unconscious for a bit longer, so he can recover without the shock of… well, all of it. We’ll give him another twelve hours and set up a room, where he can regain consciousness. Someone should be there with him, so he feels less disoriented.”

            They looked between themselves. “Well, it definitely shouldn’t be me,” Steve said, trying to break the tension. Bucky bit his lip, “I wanna be there, but he might just think he’s dead if he sees me and I don’t wanna do that to him.” Peggy looked pained. “Maybe Howard would be the most diplomatic choice,” she proposed but Howard grimaced. “I have a terrible bedside manner.” Peggy sighed. “Maybe it should be me then. Together with Howard. And Bucky in the room but not the first thing he sees?” Howard nodded. Bucky looked at Steve. “You know, I always wanna see you, Buck. Nothing will make him happier than knowing you survived.” Bucky swallowed heavily and agreed.

 

The rest was a waiting game. Howard showed them the room he’d considered. “The mirror there is see through. Steve can wait on the other side and see how it goes.” All of them stopped short. Steve spoke up first. “Why do you have a mirror like that in one of your guest rooms, Howard?” Howard did not have the decency to blush. “You damn well know why, and I will not spell it out in polite company,” he inclined his head towards Peggy, who rolled her eyes, “But rest assured no one’s ever spend the night here, who didn’t know of the special proclivities of the décor.”

            Aside, the mirror Howard had most of the other furniture removed, so all it contained was a comfortable bed, a side table with a lamp and a couple of chairs. On one of the walls remained a dresser beneath the mirror. The simplicity of the room reminded Steve of what Shield had tried to do to keep him relaxed. Well at least this time it was just to prevent him from straining his perception with an overload of visual information instead of trying to make him believe he was still in the 1940s.

            Steve’s younger self nearly regained consciousness shortly after five in the morning. Everything had gone as planned so far. Everyone was so relieved. He’d seen both Peggy and Bucky wipe a couple of tears away. The sedative Howard had given younger Steve would have knocked out a horse, but worked on him only for a couple of hours, so they moved Steve to the other room right after they’d taken a break for breakfast. He still had an IV in his arm that was supplying him with a mild – for him – sedative. They’d let that dose run its course and just wait for Steve to come to on his own.

            Peggy was sitting right by Steve’s side, clasping his hand. It reminded Steve of how he’d sat with Bucky back in their little village in Italy. Howard was switching between studying his notes and pacing the room, unable to just wait and see. Bucky was sitting furthest from Peggy and Steve; stock still gaze on younger Steve’s face registering every movement for any sign of change in consciousness.

           Steve knew that he was supposed to be in the other room, just observing. He had side-lined himself after all but seeing Bucky fretting, he couldn’t let him wait by himself. So instead of Bucky’s Steve hand to hold, he offered his own, and Bucky grasped it gratefully, sometimes squeezing, when he thought to perceive a change, sometimes letting his gaze drift to Steve, when Steve squeezed his hand in reassurance.

           It was past three thirty when Steve stirred. The air in the room shifted. And everyone held their breath. With a final squeeze, Steve retracted his hand and quickly left the room to see what would happen. When he looked through the mirror, as if through a television screen, he saw himself awakening and finally opening his eyes. Peggy’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, her smile as bright as the sun and she was fighting so hard not to cry, as she clutched his hand.

           “Peggy?” he could hear himself say. It was muffled through the sound system but audible enough. “Yes, Steve. It’s me. You’re safe. You’re home.” He could see the look of disbelieve on his own face, his voice hoarse when he spoke again. “I thought I was done for. I am so sorry for putting you through this.” Peggy laughed, tears now breaking through, “Oh you better be, mister. I will not be stood up twice, you better believe it.” Steve smiled at her, shakily. “I wouldn’t dare, Ma’am,” he reassured her and then he reached up and pulled her down for a kiss.

           Steve on his side of the mirror stood stock still. He looked away from himself and Peggy and looked at Bucky. Bucky was white as a sheet, tears falling silently from his eyes, but he was smiling, nonetheless. All Steve wanted to do was to go to him and comfort him, but he was degraded to an observer to a story he was not supposed to have a place in. Peggy meanwhile had drawn back, laughing, clearly overjoyed. Howard had stepped closer and Steve was now just realising they weren’t alone. “Howard searched for you. You were frozen in the ice, but thanks to Howard we got you out.” Steve looked flustered, mostly from embarrassment, Steve thought, and reached out a hand to shake for Howard, trying to sit up in the process.

           “And there is someone else, Steve,” Peggy was saying soothingly, “Bucky is here. He’s alive.” Steve could see the exact moment his younger self processed the information. His whole body stilled, and his eyes went wide, “Bucky?!” he gasped, eyes frantically searching the room, until they settled on the only other person present. “Bucky!” he expelled and scrambled to get out of bed, ripping out his IV and nearly falling in the process, as he got tangled in his sheets. All Bucky could get out was a quiet ‘ _Hi, pal_ ’ before he was enveloped in a crushing super soldier hug. His younger self held on tight to Bucky, murmuring his name over and over again, before drawing back, looking at him and bursting into tears.

           Bucky looked flabbergasted at Steve’s reaction, but then moved back in quickly, this time drawing Steve in. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re both okay. The war is over. We’re home.” Bucky let out a comforting stream of consciousness, soothingly rubbing his one hand up and down Bucky’s spine. “I shoulda’ve gone looking for you, Buck,” Steve was hiccupping, “I’m so sorry, I let you down.” Bucky’s gaze drifted to the mirror on the wall and suddenly Steve was sure, Bucky could see him right through it. “It’s alright,” Bucky murmured, still looking towards Steve, “You didn’t.”

           For a moment Steve considered, if this was the moment in which he should take his leave. Time was up. He’d done what he’d come here to do. He’d seen what, he’d needed to see and there was no good reason to prolong his stay. He didn’t need to meet his younger self. Maybe he _shouldn’t_ meet that younger self. His friends would explain, and the rest was for him to figure out. Steve didn’t get a say in what happened next.

           In the other room, Bucky had helped Steve back into bed. Steve looked exhausted, his body still working overtime to regenerate, while the realisation of that had happened, had exhausted him emotionally as well. He was still clinging to Bucky though and Bucky had not stopped reassuring him yet. Peggy had sat down on the other side of the bed and Steve had let go of Bucky with one hand to grasp one of hers. Steve couldn’t look away. It only took a couple of more minutes before Steve had fallen asleep again, clinging to Bucky and Peggy, with Howard watching over them.

           Steve had a hard time tearing his gaze away, and still he had to. He closed his eyes, trying to sort through his own emotions of longing and sudden loneliness and left the room. His own room was only down the hall. He’d write a note. Wish them all fair well and move on. He shouldn’t be so jealous of himself. The realisation hit him hard and made him laugh, speeding up his steeps. It was only when he’d reached his door that he heard the footsteps behind him

           “Steve,” Bucky was gasping as he came running behind him, “wait up!” Steve was stunned, hand resting on the door knob. “What are you doing here, Bucky?” he asked, sounding harsh in a way that he neither meant nor felt. Bucky bit his lip. “I got a feeling,” was all he said, “Usually tells me when you’re about to do something dumb and self-sacrificing.” He raised an eyebrow at Steve, “Am I wrong?” Steve rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “There was always an expiration date on me being here. It’s time,” he paused and then reiterated what he’d already said to Peggy, “One Steve’s more than enough.” He tried to grin, but it turned out more as a grimace. Bucky huffed out a breath. “It’s definitely more work than it’s worth.” Steve barked out a laughter at that, tears he hadn’t shed earlier now threatening to break through. “Punk,” he murmured but it sounded more like an endearment than in insult. Bucky was studying him again, careful and calculating. Before Steve knew what was happening, Bucky had opened the door behind him and pushed him through, closing it behind them both. “Bucky,” Steve questioned, “What the hell?” But Bucky was pressing him against the door, holding him close like his life depended on it, Bucky’s one arm wrapped around Steve, and his face pressed into his chest. Steve’s arms came to hold Bucky automatically.

           “I’m gonna miss you,” Bucky confided to his chest and he sounded just as sad, just as resigned as his Bucky had, when he’d bid him good bye at the platform all these months ago. Something sharp and hot, shoot through Steve’s heart. His Bucky didn’t think he was coming back. At least not anytime soon. And hadn’t he been right? Spending months in a time that wasn’t his, trying to live a life with a Bucky that he hadn’t failed yet? His arms tightened around the Bucky in his arms and again thought, that he should be holding the man he’d failed to save time and time again, precisely because he had. Instead that Bucky believed that it was okay for Steve to take the easy way out, that Bucky was not worth sticking it out for.

            Steve had always sprung into action to save Bucky, but Bucky had always tried to make sure that the world’s unpleasantness didn’t reach him in the first place. Bucky had finished the fights he couldn’t, had tried to keep Steve out of a war, he himself hadn’t really wanted to join and when Steve had, he’d stayed to have Steve’s back. Later when Bucky had been hurt and tortured and confused, he’d rather stayed away instead of burdening Steve with his problems. And finally, when Steve had gotten the chance to escape their hell of a reality, Bucky had bid him farewell, confident in the idea that any other reality Steve might find, would be better for him, than the life he had with that Bucky.

           “I’m gonna miss you too, buddy,” Steve finally whispered, his arms still wound tightly around the slighter man, “But I know you’re gonna be fine. You two have a better chance than I ever did.” Bucky still wasn’t looking at him. “Is there a Bucky where you’re going back to? One you saved a little too late?” Steve felt hot tears welling up again. “Yeah, Buck. Yeah, there is,” he bit his tongue in an attempt at keeping it together, “But that’s on me and not on him. Till the end of the line, right?” Bucky pressed his face against his chest one more time and stepped back a little now finally looking Steve in the eyes. Steve could see the anxiety in his gaze and quickly reached out with a reassuring hand. Bucky's eyes flutterd close. When he opened them again there was a quiet desperation shining through.

           “Steve,” he asked solemnly, “Can I tell you something that I otherwise might never get to say?” Steve stared at him uncomprehendingly but nodded. Bucky took a deep breath and then said, voice low but steady, “I love you, Steve Rogers. Always have, always will.” And then Bucky Barnes was kissing him. He craned up his head a little and pressed his lips softly against Steve’s. It wasn’t long and it wasn’t deep, but it had Steve frozen in wonder, as it ran hot and cold down his spine. Bucky moved away again, looking afraid of how Steve might react. Steve didn’t know how to react, but he knew he wanted to feel this again. He was about to move in, when he stopped short.

“Oh, Bucky Barnes,” he said sadly, cupping Bucky’s cheek and caressing she soft skin under his eye with his thumb, “We are a beautiful mess in any universe, aren’t we?” Bucky let something out that was akin to a sob tinged with a laughter. “I am sorry I have to leave you. But I’ve run out of time.” Bucky was shaking his head. “You’re a time traveller, isn’t time all you have?” Steve smiled through another onslaught of unshed tears. “That’s what I thought, but you have your Steve back now. The time we had I stole, from you and from time. I can only hope that changing what I did, will mean you both get to be happy.” Bucky was crying now, hot tears hitting Steve’s hand. “He’s going to marry Peggy and they will be happy. And I will be happy because you’ll be happy,” Bucky said, and Steve felt his heart shatter for him. He drew Bucky close once more. “The future isn’t set in stone. It took me over a decade and meeting you to fully understand, why I could never live without you. Give him time, but don’t wait for him, alright?” Bucky was sobbing into his chest now and Steve let him, holding him until his sobs subsided and turned into quiet hiccups. After a while they were just standing there, dreading the moment that would come too soon, whenever it would come.

In the end it wasn’t their decision to part, as it had never been theirs. From outside they heard Howard yelling for Bucky. Steve was awake and he was asking for him. Slowly they disentangled themselves from each other and Bucky stepped back, making room for Steve to move away from the door. Steve stepped further into the room and turned back to Bucky, who was already reaching for the door knob. With a last watery smile, this Bucky disappeared out of his sight and out of his life.

Steve sank heavily onto the bed, thoughts racing. His shirt was wet from Bucky’s tears, he still felt Bucky’s kiss on his lips, and his ‘ _I love you, Steve Rogers. Always have. Always will_.’, rang in his ears. His heart ached and a part of him wanted to run after Bucky and tell him he’d stay. But unbidden and still welcome a different Bucky’s face put himself between himself and that action. Bucky, older and so much sadder, even if his eyes had stayed dry, was looking at him, not expecting him to return. Bucky always expected him to do the right thing, he rarely expected him do right by him.

The soul stone hang heavy around his throat. One more stop and he could go home.


	10. X

Vormir was as eerie as Clint had described it. It didn’t feel like a place for the living. It didn’t seem welcoming to the dead either. He turned to walk up the hill where he knew the stone could be gained and therefore should be returned to. It was a steep climb, but Steve couldn’t tell how long he’d been walking up the path, the light never changing, the distant sun never moving. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, flitting through the past, though not strictly _his_ past, thinking of his home and the future. He had been tempted to try to jump forward in the new timeline he had just created just to see, if they’d figured it out. If any of them, if _all_ of them, had lived a good life.

            He had been unwilling to jeopardise his mission though and told himself instead that he had to trust in himself, in Bucky and in Peggy. Now he was at the last place Natasha had been in her life. He could nearly feel her walking up this track with Clint, both amazed at what they were seeing, but cautious of what awaited them. They hadn’t known only one of them would return. He still wished that I’d been him instead of her, but this was something that even his time travel device could not fix.

            Half way up the path, or so he presumed, a hooded figure stepped into his way. “Steven Grant Rogers, son of Sarah Rogers, you’ve come to do something no one’s ever attempted as long as I’ve guarded the soul stone in any universe.” The voice sounded familiar but unplaceable, until the hooded figure moved out of the dark and into the half light of the planet. “Schmidt,” Steve expelled, instinctively taking a step back. “Ah, yes,” Schmidt said, “That is who I was a long time ago, but be not afraid, traveller. I have neither power nor desire to harm you. I am bound to this place and to my service as guide to those who seek the soul stone. Follow me.”

            Unwilling but with little choice, Steve walked up the rest of the hill behind Schmidt, always wary of any of his movements. It took them another while to reach the top of the hill, which was dominated by a big stone structure that lead to a steep cliff. Carefully, always with one eye to Schmidt, Steve looked down, but the bottom of the cliff was shrouded in dust and darkness.

            “I am here to return the soul stone,” Steve said finally, taking the stone out of the locket around his neck. More quietly he added, “And to pay my respects.” And there she was in his mind’s eye. Red hair, green eyes, one corner of her mouth turned into that half smile that was as sardonic as it was infectious. Seeing her fight, unafraid and powerful, holding her own along superhumans, and people and things who’d left even humanity behind. His confidant, his right hand, his friend. The woman who, more than most others, had dragged him into the 21st century and shown him that he could have a life. Natasha had started over more than once, without a history, without anyone to hold onto and she’d still made a place for herself. A family. With no one else around, they’d been each other’s family. “I am sorry, Nat. I will never forget you,” he murmured, pressed the stone to his lips for a second and then threw it over the cliff.

            “A soul for a soul,” he heard Schmidt announce, before darkness overcame him.

 

He came to under water. Instinctively he tried to hold his breath, only to realise that the water wasn’t filling him, seemed unable to touch him, even though he was surrounded by it. As the panic subsided, he noticed that he was lying flat on the ground. He wasn’t drowning. Slowly he pushed himself up and breached the surface.

            He was sitting in one of the pools that seemed to cover the whole planet. His hands were empty. The stone was gone. The light hadn’t changed. His mission was over. He sighed, thinking again of Natasha. Part of him had hoped to find something of her to take back, something to give a burial to that wasn’t just an empty casket.

            Steve got up slowly, his clothes dry despite the water he’d just been enveloped in, and let his gaze drift one final time.

            In a pool to his left something caught his eye. Due to the dim light he couldn’t make it out quite right, but it seemed like he wasn’t alone, like someone else was lying in a puddle. Uncaring whether this might be friend or foe, he called over to them and started running.

            As he came closer, he could see more details, a white suit and red hair. Steve’s heart stuttered. It couldn’t be? He was nearly close enough to see the other person’s face, when said person suddenly shot up, clutching at their chest. There was no question about it.

            “Natasha!” he yelled, speeding up and reaching her in a matter of seconds. She looked up, her eyes wide. “Steve, oh no. Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here.” She sounded desperate, while he couldn’t remember ever feeling so much joy.

            He kneeled beside her and enveloped her in his arms. She let him hold her for a second before drawing back. “I don’t understand,” her eyes were flitting over his face, like she hoped to find answers in the curve of his smile or the slope of his nose. “I came to return the soul stone. Schmidt… the warden said ‘ _A soul for a soul’_. I never considered that working both ways.” For a moment her lips moving, while no sound came out. Then she harkened on what seemed most important to her. “You came to bring them back. So, you’re done with them. Which means, we _won_.” Steve nodded. Natasha sighed, seemingly relieved but worry returned instantly. “Who did we lose?”

            Steve’s smile dimmed at that. “We’ve lost Tony. We thought we’d lost you.” She closed her eyes for a moment, a silent tear rolling down her cheek. “Poor Pepper. Poor Morgan.” Steve nodded. Seeing little Morgan at her dad’s funeral, not fully comprehending that Tony was gone, had been one of the hardest moments in his life. “And the others? Did we get them… are they?”

            “We got them all back, Nat. And now we got you back too!” He still couldn’t believe their lucky stars. After all the hurt and all the desperation, the need to cheat the course of history and death, he’d been sure, Nat was beyond saving. But for once the universe had given, without demanding a blood price. What was it to possess the power of the Infinity Stones, if it meant losing what was dearest to you?

            Natasha still looked shaky and Steve did not feel like spending another second on this godforsaken planet. “Let’s get you home then,” he said and pulled her up.

 

When Natasha and Steve reappeared in their universe, less than a minute had past for Bruce, Sam and Bucky. Sam and Bruce were bickering, something about the machine, and Bucky had stepped away to look out over the lake.

            For a long moment none of them realised they had appeared, Natasha and Steve just standing there on the platform taking it all in. Nat was looking at him and grinned, and Steve was grinning right back. Had the forest always been this colourful? He remembered it all greyer, more hopeless.

            Bruce noticed them first, looking up from his machine to the platform and gasping. “Natasha?”, he asked, like the couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sam spun around at his words. His eyes widened, just as incredulous at the sight as Bruce. “What the hell, Steve? What did you do?” Both men hurried over to them, as they stepped down from the platform. By now, Bucky had also noticed the commotion. He hadn’t moved though. He was still standing by the lake, hands in the pockets of his jacket. Insecurity was radiating of him in waves, Steve thought and it hurt to see it. He couldn’t help but to compare his Bucky to the Bucky he’d left mere hours ago, in another time, another life. That Bucky had shown his emotions openly, had come after Steve. In his way, he had even asked him to stay.

            Natasha was just telling Bruce and Sam what had transpired on Vormir, that bringing back the stone, had set her free. Sam was saying something to Steve, demanding answers, but they weren’t important right now. He tore his gaze away from Bucky for a second, long enough to look Sam in the eyes, and squeeze his shoulder. “Keep the shield,” was all Steve said, before walking away from his friends and towards Bucky.

            Bucky still hadn’t made a move to come closer, but he also did not look away. When Steve was standing right in front of him, close enough that if he’d stretched out his arm, they’d have touched, Steve suddenly realised that he was at a loss for words. He wanted to hug Bucky close, but his friend looked distant and withdrawn. When neither of them had said anything for a good half a minute, Bucky spoke up, “What took you so long?” his smile was pained. For a moment Steve wondered, how Bucky knew that he’d been gone longer than necessary. Then he remembered the beard. “Took a little detour,” he admitted, “Visited some friends I hadn’t seen in a while.” Bucky nodded. It was clearly what he’d expected.

“What made you come back then?” Bucky asked, cautiously. Steve gave him a small smile. “Thought I’d live some of that life Tony talked about.” Bucky looked at him blankly and so Steve elaborated. “He managed to build something beautiful in hell on earth. It’s on us to make good things happen _for_ us. I still believe we can, Buck.”

Bucky looked dumbstruck; the careful distance that had been built between them melting away. “But I thought, you’d go back and, ya know, be with Carter. Finally.” Steve looked at him ruefully. “It’s enticing. If someone had given me the opportunity back when I first awoke, I woulda’ve been outta here in an instant. But back then, I didn’t know you were still alive. I hadn’t become the man I am today yet.” He paused, thinking of the younger Steve he’d talked to in 2012, about Bucky and Hydra. He wished them well. “But I am 38 now and I’ve seen too much. I couldn’t go back to 1945 and be with the Peggy I left. Hell, and what kind of man would I be to drop in on her in 1970 and uproot the life she built for herself, when she believed me dead? No, time travel isn’t a fix-all-solution.”

Bucky was seizing him up in a different way now, a million questions in his eyes but this wasn’t the time or the place to answer them. “You brought Natalia back with you,” Bucky observed instead of asking something else. Steve beamed. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” He stepped next to Bucky and slung and arm over his shoulder, like Bucky had done when Steve was smaller, like Steve had done with a Bucky, that wasn’t his, a universe away. Their faces were unusually close like this and Steve could see the questions in Bucky’s eyes multiplying. “Come on,” he said in a way of explanation, “I wanna see the others’ faces, when we bring Natasha back.” Bucky smiled, seemingly infected by the joy that was radiating off Steve. Cautiously, Bucky took his left hand out of his jacket’s pocket and slung his arm around Steve’s waist. Arm in arm they walked to their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The end. Some might think it's a little short but I wrote it to fix the last five minutes of the movie and all the messups before it and that's what I did. I think. I hope you agree.   
> All the timelines Steve created here are open. You can make up your own mind what happens afterwards, in 2023, in 2012, in 1970 and even in 1945. I am no Russo and will give u a truth to accept. I might write suggestions though, and you can decide if you wanna read them ;) It might take a bit though. Currently I am working on an essay on the weird fixation on the nuclear family in endgame. If you're interested in my academic writing on the MCU you can find it here https://alwayssavethegirl.org/.   
> I thank you all so much for your support and your comments. Hope to see you in a different timeline soon. I know I've fallen in love with this 3000x more than with endgame. xoxo Sianii


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